


Forces of Gravity

by Anxiety_Pickle



Series: Analogous Structures [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gen, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, It Might Take a While, M/M, Mokuton User Haruno Sakura, Mythology - Freeform, No Uchiha Massacre, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Redemption, Sort Of, Time Travel Fix-It, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, Worldbuilding, rinnegan dimension travel, sasuke's hawks, the journey of sasuke admitting he has feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:34:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 149,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24451435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anxiety_Pickle/pseuds/Anxiety_Pickle
Summary: The Rinnegan is hardly well understood; at the end of the world, Sasuke Uchiha takes a gamble.In one world, Madara Uchiha wins. Sasuke escapes by the skin of his teeth and flees to the nearest dimension. Unfortunately, he has quite a few unintended passengers. Stranded five years in the past with the Akatsuki and the all too real threat of global extinction at his back, he decides that he'll be the one to stop the apocolypse - even if that means taking on the Akatsuki himself.
Relationships: Dai-nana-han | Team 7 & Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura/Yamanaka Ino, Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Series: Analogous Structures [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061738
Comments: 767
Kudos: 1596
Collections: Mixed_Fics, Real Good Shit, THE naruto fic list, Team 7 🌀, naruto favs, why im sleep deprived 💖✨





	1. Gods are Born on Burning Altars

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been bouncing around in my head for days and it won't let me rest so I wrote it. I'm a sucker for time travel fix-its and the Rinnegan is criminally underdeveloped (like, I'm not entirely sure what it does and I'm not sure Kishi does either), so I decided to combine those two things and this is the result. This chapter is mostly setup for everything that comes after.

The moon bleeds the red of infinite Tsukyomi. 

Sasuke is barely upright, bleeding sluggishly from the abdomen. Beside him, crumpled on the ground, Sakura and Naruto lay in cooling puddles of their own blood. Red like the moon, like the crimson tint to the sky. He’ll join them soon.

Plumes of smoke billow from the ground and ash chokes his lungs. The ground is a minefield of weapons and blood, the snapped edges of swords sticking out of the ground, saturated with blood, the metallic glint of kunai buried in the dirt. 

He inhales hot, dry air and resists the urge to cough and irritate a broken rib. 

He brings a hand to his face, his left eye, containing the Rinnegan. He doesn’t know how it works. He isn’t sure if anyone does, but-

It’s worth a shot. They’ve already lost, anyways. It’s not like there’s anything left to lose.

His chakra network is almost completely depleted, but he pulls and grits his teeth, channeling what’s left of his chakra, torpid, lethargic and uncooperative, into the Rinnegan. He grapples for the thin, tenuous fabric of reality, a permeable membrane separating each self-contained existence from the next. At the edge of his consciousness, he hears a disembodied voice, floating, so far away that he doesn’t quite catch who’s speaking, and pushes apart the layers of separation. If he miscalculates, he has no doubt that he’ll be caught in the amorphous periphery of limbo, forced into the vast, tenebrous cavern of nonexistence. 

He can only hope that it works.

Static electricity washes over him, and he loses consciousness.

Sasuke wakes with his head cushioned by grass, a canopy of leaves above him, and his vision tinted red. He sits up a second before he remembers the broken rib, and holds himself immediately still, waiting for the indicative stab of pain in his lower side. When he finds none, he brings a hand up to his face, blood drooling down his cheeks. The distant ache of chakra exhaustion pulses through him with a dull throb. His heart hammers in his throat and wrists with enough force to rupture his veins. 

He sits up and feels… strange. 

He wipes away the blood on his face, deactivating his Sharingan, and looks down at too-short arms and legs. 

He’s… twelve. Twelve or eleven or something along those lines and definitely something he shouldn’t be. 

He’s _twelve_ again. 

How-?

Of course, he knows that time is much less linear than most people are comfortable admitting, but he’s almost five years in the past. Well, as far as time itself goes. He can’t guarantee that this world is anything like the one he used to belong to, but he’s willing to bet that they’re at least obliquely similar. Adjacent dimensions are like that, and he’d slipped into one just next to his own. Which could mean any number of things about where he is _now_.

So then, his first order of business is figuring out precisely when, and more importantly, _where_ , he is. His first, knee-jerk instinct is to liken the forest he’s currently stranded in to the Forest of Death, but it’s not. That had been a thing of nightmares - bugs the size of his hands, bloodthirsty predators and equally bloodthirsty competitors. But this forest is vaguely… peaceful.

He pushes himself up with trembling arms and takes a step that seems like it ends too soon, and he remembers _shorter legs_. He grimaces. This might be a problem. 

This entire _situation_ is a problem, but he isn’t dead and nature hasn’t fixed that yet, so he tries to work through how incredibly jarring it is to wake up in a different body. 

He spends the next couple of minutes testing his dexterity (his wrist doesn’t click when he moves it anymore, after a break under Orochimaru’s tutelage that had shattered his growth plates. Kabuto had only healed it halfway, as some sort of punishment) and reacquainting himself with his motor functions. His chakra is still almost entirely depleted, probably from the drain of using the Rinnegan and the younger body (which has _pathetically_ underdeveloped chakra coils, he notes), but at the moment, the imminent threat of the apocalypse isn’t hanging over his head, so it doesn’t matter quite as much.

Once he’s satisfied that he won’t topple over the minute he tries walking any substantial distance, he begins to walk. There’s not much he can do about the chakra, but this should help him get a little more comfortable with his woefully inadequate new body. He decides to walk North, downhill, until the ground starts to soften. That means there’s a river nearby, and if he follows it long enough, he’ll probably find a village. 

He wonders, then, what village he should technically belong to in this world. He’s conspicuously lacking a hitai-ate that might otherwise tell him, so that could mean that (assuming history here is anything like what he’s familiar with) he’s either already left for Orochimaru (highly unlikely, considering he was passed out in the middle of an unfamiliar forest), he’s a missing nin (slightly less unlikely, though the lack of a hitai-ate is strange), or he doesn’t belong to a village at all (unlikely in the situation that Konoha is historically similar to the one he remembers, but not impossible). 

He finds the river eventually, no wider than a couple of feet, white foam crashing over fist-sized rocks. He glances down at it, and sees in his reflection the Rinnegan. That might be… off-putting to see, if he were to walk up to a hidden village, especially if Pein is the only one running around with them right now. Henge might be too taxing for him right now, so he should probably find something to conceal that. 

Just to make sure his other eye is relatively functional, he activates the Mangekyo Sharingan for only a second. Three black tomoe spin and morph, pinwheeling into a six pointed star. It burns so badly that he immediately closes his eyes, blinking away macabre tears of blood. Looks like he doesn’t have the chakra to sustain that, either. He splashes his face to wash away the blood and checks his person. There’s a knife strapped to his belt. He might be able to use it to cut off something to cover his eye. 

The knife feels odd in his hand, smaller now than he remembers. He’s smaller than he can ever remember being, now. 

He pulls it back, cautious of the angle of his arm, careful of overextension, and throws it at the nearest tree. Not _too_ far off where he was aiming, all things considered, but that’s _definitely_ not good enough. Not if he wants to survive. 

He sighs, unfolds himself from the riverside, and keeps walking.

He passes through a small farming community soon after he emerges from the forest. He doesn’t have enough chakra to sustain a henge for long, so he needs to buy something to cover his eye. The town is small, but there’s a stand set up selling scarves hanging from an iron hook, and Sasuke supposes that those will work as well as anything else. For a brief moment he wonders if he has money, and if he needs to resort to stealing, but luckily he does.

The woman behind the counter has her silver hair pulled back into a tight bun, three silver bands clasped over her wrist.

“You look dead on your feet, boy.” She greets, after introducing herself as a woman named Kouri. He can’t maintain this henge for much longer without risking damage to himself. “You don’t need to worry about that henge there. I can see what’s going on with that chakra of yours.” 

Sasuke startles, but he really _can’t_ hold the henge for that much longer. His bones ache with exhaustion that carves straight down to the marrow. Slowly, he lets it slide away, revealing the Rinnegan beneath. To her credit, she doesn’t seem immediately alarmed. 

“How can you see it?”

She grins, leaning forward, as if sharing a secret, the smile lines around her mouth pulling. There’s a weak flicker of something in her eyes - something he recognizes immediately as a Sharingan. The kekkei genkai clamps down instinctively on his ocular nerves, but he doesn’t have the chakra to sustain it. 

“Sharingan.” He breathes. Of course, it was no secret that those with Uchiha blood existed out of Konoha, but it’s jarring to see, after lasting so long as one of the few people that still had the ability. The people scattered across the countryside are likely byproducts of the Warring States Period, when the Uchiha were a mercenary clan that went wherever they were needed, or from the third war. In both cases, blood is likely to have diluted. The Sharingan is closely related to the Byakugan, sometimes believed to be a mutation of it; if this woman, who possesses, in some manner, the Sharingan, can see his chakra network, that seems likely.

She laughs good naturedly. “You think _that’s_ strange? You should see yourself, boy!”

He brings his hand up to shield the Rinnegan. It’s new and foriegn, and he isn’t quite used to it yet, almost as much as his new ( _old?_ ) body.

“That eye of yours is sucking up all your chakra.” She says, bracelets clacking against the wooden table. “All your chakra pathways are diverted to it.”

He wonders if this is how Kakashi feels, and then stops. He really doesn’t want to know.

He grunts. 

“Where are you from? You look foreign to these parts.” She pauses, considering. “I ‘spose that’s not all that important as where you’re going. You’re pretty young to be taking a stroll through the mountains.”

Mountains? Where the hell _is_ he?

He chooses not to take issue with the ‘young’ comment because just a handful of hours ago he was _sixteen_ and not _twelve_. “Can you tell me where I am?”

“You don’t know?” She arches an eyebrow. “Toudaka. Between Earth and Wind, closer to Earth, though. Amegakure is to the South.”

 _Amegakure_. He stiffens. Where the Akatsuki headquarters are. It also means he’s much closer to Oto than he’d like to be, considering that Orochimaru is probably alive and Sasuke would like nothing better to run him through with a sword again. 

A sword which he does not have. He needs supplies, and clothes. He needs to decide what to _do_.

So Earth and Wind are still established as being the same. He suspected as much, but it was always a question. 

“I need something to cover my eye.” He says.

“I suppose that _would_ get you some strange looks.” She idles.

He’s more worried that it’ll get him targeted by the Akatsuki, and the last thing he needs to do right now is draw attention. Until he can build his chakra back up he’ll need to physically cover it up. 

“I have a better idea. Come with me.” She walks around the back of her stand, one leg dragging, gait uneven. “Bandages will work better. No one questions that.”

She leads him down the narrow, dusty street to her home. The back is comprised of a modest barn. In the yard, a young child holds a baffled-looking chicken above her head, laughing as a younger boy chases her in tight circles. Further, cattle graze, and horses bray from the fenced in grass.

“Well?” She hobbles up her porch steps. “What are you waiting for?”

Inside, she pours them both tea and Sasuke wants to turn down her hospitality, but the room is spinning and he isn’t sure he could pry himself out of the chair if he tried.

“You’re Uchiha, aren’t you?” She asks, rooting around in her cupboards. He stiffens. “You look just like my Grandad did. You all got a look to you.” 

She glances back to him, his fingers locked, white-knuckled, around his mug. “So what’s a kid as young as you are doing away from his home country? You’re from Konoha, aren’t you?”

Well, he doesn’t know if _this_ world’s Sasuke is, so he stays impassively silent.

“I’ve been alone this far.” He says. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re no older than my granddaughter.” She shakes her head, but doesn’t argue. “You’ve got a long journey ahead of you?”

“Potentially,” He replies, noncommittal. In that same vein, “Do you know where I can find supplies? Food, clothes.”

“A few of my neighbors might have what you’re looking for.” She flicks her eyes over him. “I don’t see any bags.”

“I-”

Can’t explain that.

“Full of mysteries, aren’t you?”

Sasuke fidgets uncomfortably, a habit he thought he’d ironed out. “... thank you for your hospitality, but-”

“ _Relax_. Don’t be in such a hurry to leave. You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to this village in years. I don’t mind a little intrigue. Where do you plan to go?”

He should drop into Amegakure, to see what state the Akatsuki is in. He hardly wants to die _twice_ , and certainly not at the hands of Madara. But on that note, it might be better to cut straight to Otogakure and kill Orochimaru and Kabuto before they can involve themselves too heavily with the Akatsuki. 

But before he can do either of those things, he needs supplies, a proper weapon, and most importantly, a comprehensive understanding of just what, exactly, this world is. 

“To find a swordsmith.”

“Well if that’s the case, then you’re in luck. You’re bound to find one in every village along the mountain range. There’s a caravan that heads through town this time of year to trade. They make a stop up there. If they’re still in town you should be able to catch them tomorrow morning.” Eroding rock and complex mining systems for ore and gemstone facilitate a competitive breed of swordsmithing business, apparently. “Worried about bandits?”

You could say that. He grunts. 

She sets a pile of medical supplies on the table and Sasuke startles.

“I can’t pay-”

The woman only shakes her head. “If you think I’m going to let one as young as you walk straight into the bandit-infested mountains you’ve got another thing coming.”

Sasuke doesn’t know what to say to that, so he bows his head.

“Thank you.” He says. 

The woman smiles.

That night, Sasuke can’t sleep.

He looks at the moon and sees something just shy of whole, bright and pallid. There is no evidence of the Infinite Tsukuyomi. No evidence of Madara or the war that swept up the world. There’s nothing here and he still has time to fix it, because he has to fix it, because he watched Naruto and Sakura die beside him and it didn’t solve anything, and he wonders now if there is any bond that can ever be fully severed. 

This particular breed of grief is not an unfamiliar one, but it is just as raw and painful as it ever has been. 

Once the feeling has settled, Sasuke makes a decision.

Naruto Uzumaki wakes to a humid morning, a warm breeze blowing through his window. He yawns away the fragments of sleep, bolting upright when he remembers this is graduation day. He’s officially out of the academy, set to be put on a team with a Jonin instructor, already on the path to becoming Hokage.

As he slides out of bed, eyeing the open ramen cup on the table, half full, he notices something on his palm. 

_A sun mark?_

It’s perfectly circular, like it was carefully traced onto his skin that way, and he’s sure that he’s never seen a mark like that in his life. He squints at it, turning his palm. It seems to shimmer. 

“What _is_ this?” He mumbles, and then decides that, whatever it is, his interest in it is wholly eclipsed by the fact that he needs to get to the academy because, according to his clock, he’s already late. 

He snatches his hitai-aite from the table and double knots it behind his head, takes one more appraising glance at the ramen before realizing he doesn’t have time and dumping it in the trash can which is in dire need of being kicked forcefully from his apartment, or maybe incinerated. He worries that it’s started gaining sentience. 

He shrugs on his jacket, makes for the door, and sprints down the street.

Sakura Haruno, in a similar vein, wakes up with strange visions trapped behind her eyelids. A diamond seal on her forehead, a black haired boy she’s never seen before, someone who looks almost identical to Naruto, but much older.

She dismisses it as a strange dream and shakes the grogginess away. 

In twenty minutes flat she’s showered and dressed, toweling off the long, dripping ends of bright pink hair before she slips downstairs. Her mother is cooking breakfast which she, unfortunately, doesn’t have time to indulge in and her father is making small talk at the table.

“Sakura!”

She winces. She’d hoped to make a sneaky escape but apparently she had no such luck. 

“Your very first day as a Shinobi!” Her mother squeals, scraping eggs around the pan with a spatula. “Do you know who your Jonin sensei will be?”

“Uh, no.” She glances at the clock. “Mom, I should _really_ get going-”

“You be careful.” Her father points. “We don’t need any more incidents.”

She blushes as red as her hair, and thinks that it says something about her that she knows exactly what he’s referring to.

“I was eight!” She cries, and he’s never going to let her live it down. The hardwood beneath her feet trembles a little, and she clamps down on her emotions a little harder. Mokuton is very reactive to emotions, and if she’s not careful, she’ll-

“Just don’t cave any other doorways,” He grins.

“ _Dad_ ,” She groans. 

He snickers and calls out, “Bye, pumpkin! Good luck today!”, complemented by her mother’s laughter as she shuts the door behind her, perhaps with more force than strictly necessary. She jogs out into the street, swerving around a cart of watermelons, and sees Ino in the distance. She catches up to her, bumping shoulders.

“Sakura? Aren’t you a little late?”

“So are you!”

Ino flips her hair over her shoulder. “Yeah but I was doing things.” Then, she grins. “You excited about getting put on a team?”

“Of course I am!” And vaguely nauseous, but she didn’t need to know that. Not when they were competing to see who was the better kunoichi. Ino had her by two points - two points!

Ino grins. “Wanna race there?”

Sakura grins right back. “On the count of three-!”

She’s running before she reaches the end of her sentence.

The next morning, Sasuke helps the aforementioned granddaughter feed the horses (which he doesn’t trust for a second, anything that big is a _threat_ ) and lead them from their pens, and then sets off before the sun has so much as come up. With his sparse amount of money, he heads to the nearest sleepy shop for food and clothes. The shopkeeper accepts the coins he drops on the table and doesn’t notice the blank summoning paper he swipes from the wall that he definitely can’t afford if he wants to pay for a sword. 

He settles his new bag across his shoulders, carefully arranges the tangled straps, and settles at the edge of the forest. He spreads the summoning paper over a flat enough rock, and takes one of his kunai out. He’s lucky that at the very least, he has an acceptable arsenal of weapons. He takes the canister of ink he purchased and the needle Khouri had promised was alright for him to take. He paints the memorized seal on the paper in dark sweeps of ink. He’d lost his contract with the snakes, and that one was always more complicated, because it required a specific contract paper that was currently in Orochimaru’s possession. It might be worthwhile to take it from him, after he killed him. 

He presses the edge of a kunai to the side of his hand, careful not to cut the palm. Blood spills down his hand and he lets it drip onto the seal. Sasuke directs what chakra he has recovered into the wound. His chakra coils are stranger than he remembers them being. More tangled, looped in strange circles. All of them seemed to feed into the Rinnegan, which required the most chakra to function and would draw on them until it was replenished. 

The seal bubbles and hisses. White smoke billows off it. Sasuke pulls back, staunching his bleeding hand. Cautiously, he flicks his Sharingan on. 

A hawk stands on the summoning paper, blinking curious dark eyes at him. Summons are larger than their normal counterparts. At the moment, this one is no larger than the length of his forearm, dappled in splotches of chestnut brown and white. 

“ _You know our seal._ ” The bird tilts its head curiously. “ _How can that be?_ ”

Sasuke purses his lips. “... it was shown to me.”

 _“Oh? How interesting. I am Chiha. I’ve never left the realm of my brethren before. I am curious to see what you have to say.”_ She hops forward. _“You… are strange. You possess the eye of the heavens.”_

“You know about the Rinnegan?”

 _“Is that what your kind calls it? It is a gift.”_ She says firmly. _“What are you called?”_

“Sasuke Uchiha.”

 _“Sasuke.”_ She says. _“You are much like me.”_

He stiffens. “In what way?”

_“We are both from worlds outside of this one. It seems that the both of us are new to this world. Have you come to form a covenant?”_

“Yes.”

She flaps her wings lightly. _“Then I accept. I would like to know more about one like myself. I vow my loyalty to you now. I speak for my brothers and sisters as well.”_

“Thank you.” He says, and runs a hand through her sleek feathers. She preens at the contact.

_“We are bound by soul.”_

He watches her stretch her wings to full length, the underside of her feathers sprinkled with black spots.

_“Is there something you wish me to do?”_

“Yes.” He procures a rolled up map from his bag. “... I… am also unfamiliar with this world. I need information.”

 _“Information.”_ She flexes her talons. Her sharp, glossy black claws sink into the crumbling earth. _“I am not the biggest, but I am fast. What information do you require I gather?”_

“There’s a village to the south of here.” He points at the village. “Amegakure. There’s a group there that I’d like you to look into: the Akatsuki. They’re incredibly dangerous.”

_“Dangerous?”_

“Yes. Where I came from doesn’t exist anymore because of them. Be careful not to be spotted.” 

_“I understand.”_ She ducks her head. _“I will return swiftly.”_

With a snap of feathers she’s airborne, ducking into the foliage with an incredible speed and grace. Sasuke sighs and stands, aching again. 

He has a blacksmith to find.

He sends out three more hawks on the way: Umo is sent to Orochimaru’s lair, Sukai to monitor Konoha, and Tenku to the nearest trade outpost, later to Suna. He’ll dispatch more later to check on the state of the Jinchuuriki. Unfortunately at least two of them wander across the countryside liberally, which makes tracking them a little more difficult. 

Speaking of the Akatsuki, that brings up the matter of _Itachi._

It dominates the forefront of his mind, even as he joins the caravan and tags along at the back, tolerating the company of two overzealous six year olds, _Itachi is alive. Itachi is alive. Itachi is alive-_

Itachi _should_ be alive. That’s assuming nothing else has happened. Sasuke shouldn’t let himself hope. 

But Itachi could be alive, which is more than he could say before. 

_I’m going to find you_ , he thinks, his breath coming a little too quick, too sharp. This is his chance for a do over. This is his chance to fix things. _I’ll find you._

The ride in the back of the wagon ends abruptly when they reach their next point. His knees ache from being cramped in the back with two small children. 

He’s met with two towering spires of black obsidian. Two children poke at beds of shale, conglomerate and sedimentary rock, pulling long sheets of stone from a single slab of rock. Further, down, the rock looks metamorphic. Long slips of gleaming black stone packed so closely together under appropriate heat and pressure that it consolidated. 

Up ahead, up the steep stretch of rock that nothing but pack mules, mountain bred and raised, are able to climb, leads to the village itself. There is the blacksmith, or so he’s told. 

He hikes up the steep climb, the stairs crudely shaped and so large that each individual step is almost at his mid-thigh. He curses his new, smaller legs and the lack of endurance he has. By the time he’s all the way up, the sun is high in the sky, beating down on his head and shoulders. 

_It’s too early,_ he thinks, exhausted, hands chalked with dust, and heads for the shop.

He argues with the swordsmith for a good twenty minutes before she agrees to sell to him. Apparently she, too, has hang ups about his age, and is _determined_ to make them known. Eventually, she concedes that he does need a weapon if he plans to travel on his own, and once he’s demonstrated sufficient knowledge of sword handling and she’s satisfied that the apparent twelve year old won’t accidentally stab himself with one, and agrees to let him take a look at the weapons she already has.

Unfortunately, there aren’t many people of his height commissioning swords, but eventually, he finds one that’s close enough. Almost seventy centimeters of polished steel, hilt bound carefully by cloth. Clearly expensive, but Konoha money (which is the only currency he was carrying, originally, which is also peculiar) is more valuable here. He spends the last of his money on the sword, which isn’t too much of a problem. The road is, he’s been informed several times, _infested_ with bandits. He can take whatever else he needs from them. 

Aya, one of the smaller hawks, perches on her shoulder, considerate of the leather strip preventing her underdeveloped claws from piercing skin, tilts her head at the children chasing each other in circles. _“... your kind is very… rambunctious.”_

“Don’t group me with them.” He says, flat, and runs a finger down her beak. She snaps playfully at his hair. 

“Where are we going now?”

Sasuke sheaths the sword at his hip, one edge of his mouth tilted into a grin. “To kill a snake.”

Weasel clips the ANBU mask to his belt, and Itachi rushes back in to fill the cracks. The rest of his team is quick to follow as they exchange their muddied gear for more comfortable clothing, hitting the showers and brushing out hair and whatever else they do to unwind. Itachi, relatively clean, given the mission parameters (anything to do with the word _swamp_ never turns out to be anything good), bags his ANBU clothes and stuffs them in his locker. He desperately wants a shower, but that can wait until he makes the fifteen minute walk home. Twenty, if he’s being generous.

He turns the corner, and finds no other than Kakashi Hatake sitting on the bench, easily reclined back against the wall, legs crossed. Itachi pauses.

“Itachi,” He greets amiably. “You look tired.”

Itachi would argue that he always looks tired, but he knows he looks _especially_ tired after spending three sleepless nights in what he respectfully refers to as a mosquito-infested hellhole. 

He manages a tired smile and wishes for nothing more than to sleep for the next decade. “I suppose I would.” He rubs a tired hand at the bags under his eyes that he’s forgone trying to get rid of. He’s only eighteen and he feels thirty five.

“I’m here to inform you that our honorable Hokage has assigned me a genin team. I’m off ANBU.”

It occurs to Itachi, very briefly, that Kakashi has been on ANBU for more than half of his life, and this must be a very jarring transition, and then-

Oh. It must be the Jinchuuriki, then. 

Kakashi must see it in his eyes, because he grins beneath his mask.

“Yes, that one will be on my team. And a Mokuton user.”

“Mokuton?” Itachi repeats. 

“The Hokage has been keeping secrets.” Kakashi says mildly. Itachi frowns at the tone. Kakashi has proven, on many different occasions, that while he has no love for the Hokage himself, there’s always been a bitter undercurrent of resentment, but he will go out of the way to protect the position. “Who knew we had another Yamato?”

“Kakashi-”

“Itachi.” Kakashi stands and ruffles his hair, much to his displeasure. “How did your mission go?”

The transition isn’t the cleanest, but it takes the tension out of the room. Kakashi has a stabilizing hand on his shoulder and Itachi feels a little less like he’s going to pass out. 

“Fine.” He says.

“But no sign of…?”

Of his missing brother, of the brother he hasn’t seen in six years, the brother who disappeared without a trace, with no formal investigation ever put out to find him. He had been presumed dead within the first week of his disappearance and Itachi never really let it go. It’s caused a bit of a rift between him and his parents, but really giving up isn’t quite as easy as it sounds. 

“Sorry, kid.” He says, voice heavy, and Itachi tries for a smile. He’s sure it fails on all accounts except for effort. Kakashi is the only one who hasn’t challenged him on that front yet, so he’s automatically become Itachi’s favorite person on that merit alone.

“I’m going to go home and shower.” He says, shrugging Kakashi’s hand off. “Good luck with your genin.”

“Oh, I'll need it...” Kakashi mutters, and he’s probably not meant to hear it, but he smiles anyway.

Itachi has been having a strange, recurring dream. His brother, because that is surely Sasuke, it is a subconscious understanding, more definite than anything he’s ever felt, older than Itachi has ever got to see him, older still, perhaps, and then collapsed on the dark, wet cobblestone street of the Uchiha compound, eyes bleeding with the Sharingan, older, against a backdrop of stone, dark eyes wide and terrified. The moon, weeping blood as barbed tomoe circle it in lazy, predatory circles. He pictures dark, slick blood staining a blade, trembling fingers, lowering it with the certainty of death-

He wakes up before he gets any farther, his breath stalling and his heart hammering in his throat. His chest is tight. 

Itachi glances out the window, at the panel of moonlight shifting across the floor. The moon is normal. 

_What does it mean?_

Itachi forgoes sleep and slips out of his bed. 

He doesn’t think he’d be able to fall back asleep anyways.

Far beneath a towering pillar of rock, in pitch darkness that feels tangible, like a living, breathing thing, Madara Uchiha opens his eyes.


	2. Cradle of the Sun

Konoha this time of year is especially muggy. Humidity chokes the sun-warmed air, mosquitos swarm the heavily wooded areas hugging the Uchiha compound. Next month, the heat will bake the life out of the plants springing up at the riverbank of the Naka river. Shisui wades in the water, white foam catching around his calves as the current, decently strong for this narrow stretch of river, pulls water and bugs downstream. Riverweed catches around one of his ankles. Downstream, crouched in the shallows and sifting through the silt stirred up at the bottom of the river, is a pack of loud Uchiha kids. They’re lucky rainfall hasn’t been too heavy; the river is prone to flooding, and this curve is just close enough to the uniform line of houses that the outer ones might get damaged. 

It’s a hot day, and Shisui is trained to function in all manners of intense conditions, but he’s been working nonstop on a chain of infiltration missions for the past week, and he’s of the firm philosophy that he should get the chance to indulge himself once in a while (and the kid’s mother, the one splashing in the water beneath a dark mop of brown hair, had asked him to keep an eye on her son since he was in the area). 

Over the top of the hill, long, dry grass sways. It will brown beneath the merciless heat of the summer sun, but for now it’s a vibrant green. Further is a thick grove of trees, broad, soldiering trunks grown so closely together they’re nearly intertwined. The fine cradle of branches overhead are woven together so tightly that hardly any light reaches the mossy forest floor. It’s a good place to train. However, he’s more focused on the pair of eyes observing from the shadowy safety of gnarled branches. He wouldn’t know what to look for if he wasn’t so conditioned to spot Itachi’s crows - the little bastards have a bad habit of stealing his things and while Shisui has yet to prove anything, he’s _sure_ that Itachi’s been teaching them to hide his hitai-ate. 

The feathers make it hard to spot - speckled white and brown blending in almost seamlessly to the spotty darkness of the forest - but there’s most certainly a hawk observing him carefully. It’s clearly too big to be a natural part of the wildlife, small by summon standards but large by any other, and he’s never seen one around here before, anyways. Maybe not him specifically, but certainly the Uchiha compound. 

He wonders what their new friend is looking for.

He turns back as one of the kids slips and falls in the water with a high pitched shriek, and by the time he turns back, there’s another figure making the trek over the hill.

Itachi, ANBU gear discarded in exchange for a more comfortable wide-collared shirt, stands at the top of the hill, carrying a paper bag in one hand and a receipt in the other.

“Itachi!” Shisui waves. “So they finally forced you to take some vacation time!”

Itachi rolls his eyes as if that were wholly inappropriate of them. Itachi was such a workaholic that he refused to take vacation time when offered, instead embarking on missions that Shisui is sure are meant to collect information about any potential leads on Sasuke’s situation, and honestly, if he hadn't been forced onto the bench, Shisuis would have done it himself.

“I really don’t see how me working more hours is so terrible.”

“Yes, how _dare_ they let you have free time. The injustice.” Shisui kicks water at him, and Itachi scrunches up his nose. “What’s in the bag?”

“A necklace they had in evidence.” He pulls it out with one finger. The thin, wire-like strand is broken three times, that Shisui can see, by circular pendants. “They said I could take it.”

Shisui hums. “You should come in the water. It’s nice.”

Itachi looks supremely unimpressed by his offer. 

“Oh, come on. You gotta catch a hot date? I know you don’t have a life outside of missions, Itachi, now get in the water.”

Shisui is _going_ to get Itachi to chill out, he swears.

Itachi sighs, stripping off his shoes and rolling up his pant legs before wading into the river.

“You think I can catch that crayfish?”

“Please don’t antagonize the wildlife.”

Shisui grins, and there’s a shadow of a smile on Itachi’s face. They wade a little further upstream, towards their new hawk friend, Itachi occasionally leaning down to pick up something shiny lost in the riverbed, probably for his little demons masquerading as crows.

“Gonna give those to your little monsters?”

“They’re called crows, Shisui.”

“Same thing.” Shisui turns around to pin him in a glare. “I know you’ve been teaching them to steal my things. Tell your sky rats to give my hitai-ate back, I know they took it.”

Itachi is stone faced, but he’s smiling with his eyes, Shisui can _feel_ it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

One day he’ll catch one of the little bastards in the act.

But, speaking of summons…

“You notice our new friend?” He angles his head towards the trees.

Itachi follows his gaze. “Is that why you asked me to come out here?”

“Do you know anyone with hawk summons?”

Itachi narrows his eyes. “What are you thinking?” 

“I can only think of two people in the entire village who use hawk summons,” He leans back on his heels, careful not to slip on the mossy rocks. “And both of them report directly to the hokage for the purpose of communication. What’s one of those doing here? Not to mention I’ve never seen this particular one before - it’s not the right color.”

“You think it’s-”

“Who else would want to keep tabs on us?”

Danzo is a slimy bastard on the best days, he wouldn’t put it past him for a second to use one of his underlings to spy on them. If it’s someone in ROOT, then that’s even worse, because he’s sure the Hokage wouldn’t appreciate them looking into that. It’s… something that generally goes ignored by the upper bureaucracy. They’re aware it exists, but since it functions, in name, anyways, in the interest of the village and performs many of the dirtier jobs that the Hokage doesn’t want the village to be aware of, he tolerates its continued existence, which will always be a point of contention between them, _especially_ because Danzo has his fingerprints all over Sasuke’s disappearance. The lack of formal investigation into the matter was _particularly_ suspicious, and as long as Itachi’s not giving up, Shisui isn’t, either. 

Shisui isn’t stupid, and neither is Itachi. Danzo has coveted the dojutsu of their clan for as long as they’ve known him, and they’re both well aware of what methods he’ll stoop to to get them. There’s illegal kekkei genkai trade in the Land of Waves - particularly concerning the Sharingan. While it’s rarer to see outside of Konoha, where most of the clan ended up, it wouldn’t be unusual to see someone with it in Stone or Wind. Shisui can only hope that Sasuke didn’t end up in it. 

Of course, Itachi has already investigated those leads and they haven’t reaped any results. No Uchiha have come through the Land of Waves in a while (that they know of, anyways). 

“You should have one of your crows tail it.”

“You think it will lead us to one of Danzo’s people.”

“It might, and it would be evidence. If we can get dirt on Danzo, it might help us take him down, and stop the situation with your father. How’s that going?”

Itachi’s mouth quirks down. “Nothing’s changed. If anything, he’s more passionate about it than he was before Sasuke disappeared.”

It made sense that the disappearance and completely unprofessional handling of his youngest son’s aforementioned disappearance would fuel his anger, Shisui supposes. After Sasuke had disappeared Itachi made it very clear where he stood with both the village and his family: Sasuke was and would always be the first priority, and he wouldn’t be helping either of them further any agendas before Sasuke was found. Fugaku had given him that, at least. The coup had been put on indefinite hold, and Shisui had foolishly hoped that it had been discarded completely. As soon as the budget cuts and scorn continued, he should’ve known that if the clan couldn’t bypass their segregation through peaceful means, they would resort to violent ones. 

Itachi summons a crow, which perches perfectly on his outstretched arm. Shisui glares at it. The crow glares back. Itachi looks like he’s trying not to smile.

The crow unfurls dark wings and takes to the air, disappearing into the shadows of the forest. Shisui watches it go, keeping a careful distance from the hawk, which doesn’t seem to be watching them. 

Itachi stares into the forest a moment before appearing satisfied, and turning back to Shisui. He steps back out of the river, slipping his shoes back on. Shisui has no idea where he left his shoes. 

From the riverbank, Itachi offers him a hand. “My mother says she wouldn’t mind having you over for dinner, if you want.”

Shisui grins and takes it.

“Of course.”

Aya flutters around his head as he closes his eyes and activates Chidori. It seems that his chakra limit is a _little_ higher than he remembers it being at this age, but not nearly as much as it needs to be. He can barely manage three blasts of Chidori without passing out, though again, that’s likely due to the sheer amount of chakra the Rinnegan consumes, but it’s annoying nonetheless. Fighting the Akatsuki in this state is unfeasible. He might be able to take on Orochimaru if he’s being careful, but only if he relies on the Mangekyo Sharingan, which this body has _exceedingly_ terrible control over. It's impressive, really. He’d summoned susano yesterday just to see if he could, and the amorphous blob of purple that followed was hardly worthy of the name at all. Thus far, he’s managed the manifestation of a spine through sheer force of will, and a couple of bubbling ribs have followed.

It will have to do. For now, at least. He doesn’t have months to waste building up his chakra reserves.

 _“What are you doing?”_ Aya asks. No matter how many times he instructs her to stop buzzing around his head while he’s blasting lightning through trees, she doesn’t seem to get the message. Young and hyperactive are two terrible qualities to be put together, and he would know, he had Naruto on his team. _“You summon lightning with your… hand?”_

He used to be able to do it with his whole body, but.

“Yes.”

If he focuses, he can extend the range a fair bit, but still nothing compared to what he was able to do before. 

_“It sounds like me.”_ She imitates the sound. He sighs. 

“Yes.”

Apparently bored with the conversation, she flies up to the nearest tree branch to watch him bisect another trunk. _“Are we gonna attack more bandits?”_

“ _We_ didn’t attack _anyone._ ” He reminds her tersely. He hadn't needed to instigate any fighting, the idiots seemed to do all the work for him. He made quick work of any bandit that had the misfortune of passing him, of course, with little effort. Most of them couldn’t recognize genjutsu and those that could had a harder time escaping a sword. 

Aya twitches, shuffling her wings. _“Umo is back!”_

The reason he hasn’t sent her back on the basis of being a nuisance is that she has the exceptional ability to sense chakra, even trace amounts, from great distances, and is able to easily identify them. She makes for an incredibly useful guard, that is, if she didn’t alert everyone in a hundred foot radius of where they were by how loud she is. Unfortunately, given that she has the tendency to disappear back into the spirit realm when not properly stimulated, using her as a guard unless he was awake was effectively useless, and as such, he had set up a wide variety of traps and privacy seals in the vicinity. 

Not five minutes later, Umo hurtles through the foliage, and Sasuke extends the arm with the armguard for him to perch. Umo is much bigger, and older, than Aya or Chiha. His feathers, darker on the top, white patterning the underside of his wings, blend in better with the forest than Aya does. 

“Umo, report?”

 _“The lair of snakes is active.”_ His talons tighten around his arm, and Sasuke is sure that if hawks could scowl, he would be. Instead, he settles for pulling at his hair. _“The snake Sanin hides in the bowls of Otogakure.”_

“In the tunnels?”

 _“Yes. They are a terrible place.”_

Sasuke makes a short noise of agreement. Dark, cramped and claustrophobic. Too far down to ever be warm. Always under Orochimaru’s thumb. 

_“I only saw him leave once.”_

“To do what?”

 _“The man brought his snakes. I was forced to flee, so I don’t know.”_

The snakes can sense chakra, too. If they had detected the presence of another unfamiliar summon, they wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him. Umo is irritated. Sasuke cards his fingers through his feathers and he calms marginally. 

“Were you seen?”

 _“Not to my knowledge.”_

“Did Orochimaru look injured?”

Umo blinks big, reflective eyes at him. 

“Specifically his arms.”

 _“No. But he briefly wore the face of a woman from Kusagakure.”_

Knowing that he means that in the most literal sense, he grimaces. Then the Chunin exams probably haven’t happened yet, which means he’s actually eleven and that’s even worse than being twelve, and worse, that means Orochimaru hasn’t attacked the village and his arms haven’t been destroyed. Of course, there’s no guarantee that he has any intention of attacking the village or infiltrating the Chunin exams this time around, especially if he isn’t a contestant. When Tenku gets back, he’ll have a better understanding of what’s going on in Suna, and whether or not the Kazekage has been killed and therefore if Orochimaru is going through with his plan to attack the village. 

Not that he really wants to stop him; he doesn’t care much for Konoha or what happens to it, really. But Orochimaru can’t be allowed to live, and neither can Kabuto, for that matter. He doesn’t want Orochimaru to develop Edo Tensei to any extent, though he may be too late there. 

New plan.

Sasuke unrolls the map he brought and uncaps a red marker with his teeth. He has the map of Orochimaru’s headquarters burned onto the back of his eyelids. Otogakure is a hidden village more in spirit than in technicality. It’s defined by the complex of subterranean labyrinths where Orochimaru occupies most frequently. The cities in this area are infamous for the international dealing of contraband, human trafficking, and the betting pools that can be found in the cesspools of the cities. Each one has connections to the tunnels, and damaging these should also hurt Orochimaru. If he can’t kill him directly, he can certainly cause enough trouble to draw him out and command his attention. 

He marks the more popular rings in each city in bright red, and turns to Umo.

“You don’t have to go back to the tunnels.” He says. “I want you to monitor the activity around these places and report back to me.”

Umo shuffles over and looks down curiously at the places he marked. 

_“These locations?”_

“Orochimaru is most vulnerable here. Until I’ve built up enough chakra to fight him, we’re going to destroy his empire.” This should lessen the chances of anyone getting Orochimaru’s jutsus the way Kabuto did. Also, he _really_ hates Orochimaru. “Do whatever you want to the people in charge of the rings, I don’t care. Just don’t get caught.” 

_“Understood.”_

Sasuke strokes his head again before he opens his wings and takes to the sky. 

_“Otogakure?”_ Aya tilts her head. _“Can I go there?”_

“No. You’re more useful doing sensory work.” He scours the map again for anything he might have missed. “Besides, they’d eat you alive.”

She squawks indignantly. 

Orochimaru has a test site not too far from here, actually… it should be dealt with by incineration because the biohazards in there would probably kill him just by being near it, but he can definitely deal with it now. And further east is another one full of test subjects that will eventually be shipped to the test site. Not only that, but this should be a good opportunity to test his skills against Sound nin. The ones guarding should be jonin level at least. 

“Aya,” He holds his arm out. “It’s time to go.” 

Naruto’s hand has been burning since this morning, and it’s really starting to get annoying. Sakura is talking in hushed tones to Ino on the other side of the bridge, draped lazily across the railing like a sunbathing cat. Kakashi-bastard is already two hours late, and Naruto is going to strangle him when he gets here, if Sakura doesn’t kill him first with her weird tree power. 

He groans and leans over the railing, the wood pushing against his diaphragm, and stares at the water. He can almost feel Sakura rolling her eyes behind him. He shoves his sleeve up to the elbow, squinting down at the mark on his palm that had spontaneously appeared and fails to _disappear,_ and worse, it’s _stinging_ now. He scrubs at it with a finger, which doesn’t make anything better. 

He contemplates going down to the riverside and trying to wash it off. It hadn't worked earlier, but it’s worth a second try.

“Naruto, what are you doing? You’re going to fall in!” Sakura chides. With a scowl, he pushes himself back over and crosses his arms over his chest with a huff. “I am ”

She scowls right back, and now Ino is scowling at him for scowling at Sakura.

How’d he get stuck with these two, anyways? He’s way better than the both of them _combined._

Every time he looks at them something feels… off. Off in the same way that he looks at the seal branded on his lower stomach, at the mental image of long, dark corridors filled with twisted pipes and gleaming metal forming thick cage bars. Water up to his calves and a foriegn, bubbling mass of chakra-

He shakes those thoughts away. They’re just stupid dreams.

(They’re not dreams, he knows. That thing is the Kyubei that’s been trapped inside him for as long as he’s lived. The voice in his ears for the past few nights isn't imagined. The Kyubei lingers in every corner of his mind. Naruto has to suppress the strangest urge to say _Kurama_ ). 

But his new team definitely _is_ weird, and Kakashi-bastard is really old and always late. 

He ducks his head into his collar, grumbling some more, and then in a swirl of leaves their conspicuously missing teacher is crouched on a tree branch.

“You!” Sakura yells. 

Naruto bristles. “You better get down here so I can kick your-”

“Good morning my cute little genin!”

“It’s _twelve-_ ”

“I’m afraid I was helping an old woman take her groceries to her apartment, so I couldn’t get here on time-”

“ _Liar!_ ” He and Sakura yell. 

“Now, we’re a little crunched for time-”

“Because of you!” Sakura chucks a rock at him, which is easily dodged. 

“-but I have a new fun mission for you!”

Sakura throws another rock, which he also dodges, the same bright smile on his face. “My students are so violent! Don’t you want to hear the mission?”

That gets their attention, if only for a moment. 

Later, Naruto learns to never trust a thing Kakashi says, because he spends the rest of his afternoon chasing stray cats through backwater alleys and all he gets in return is a scratched up face, and now his hand hurts _worse._

Stupid new mark. He scratches angrily at it, which also does not make it any better. 

He doesn’t even know what it _is._

Sakura, who trapped the cat with Mokuton, is swinging it victoriously in her arms while the cat looks dreadfully unhappy, a sadistic smile on her face. Ino coos at it and Naruto glares spitefully out of the corner of his eyes. Kakashi, ambling before them, tells them to hurry up. 

He pulls his sleeve down over his hand and keeps shuffling forward. 

With proper chakra regulation, he arrives at the prison in three hours flat. Locating the prison isn’t nearly as difficult as Sasuke suspected it might be. Neither was dealing with the guards, either. The only one that had given him any trouble was one with the curious ability to turn parts of her body to smoke. Chidori leaves her a heap by the most obvious doorway. She should stay knocked out long enough for him to free the prisoners. 

The guard patrolling the halls are easy pickings. As he races through the halls, he jams his sword into the padlocks keeping the doors closed. Prisoners, clad in rags, spill into the hallways towards the doorways. Sasuke delves deeper into the building. 

These hallways, ironically enough, are the most recognizable thing he’s seen since waking up in this body. He makes quick work of the rest of the cages - the ones towards the bottom of the lab are usually the higher-priority ones, and Sasuke fully intends to deprive Orochimaru of any and all potential test subjects.

As he strikes open the last padlock, he isn’t expecting the blank chakra signature that approaches behind him. He recognizes it instantly, one he trained himself to sense when trapped in Orochimaru’s tunnels, and turns with his jaw clenched and Sharingan flicked on, glowing red in the dark.

Kabuto.

 _Fuck._

Where Kabuto is, Orochimaru usually isn’t far behind. 

“An Uchiha.” Kabuto draws, adjusting his glasses. At least he hasn’t completely fucked up his body yet. “How curious.” His mouth curls into a grin that makes Sasuke want to shove his sword into his gut. “You wouldn’t happen to be Sasuke, would you?”

He stiffens, and his mind spins. How does he know my name? 

Instead of following that line of question, Chidori crackles to life in his hand and travels down the length of his sword. Kabuto’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t have time to do anything more before Sasuke shoots forward, slicing his blade down through the air. Kabuto just manages to deflect the strike with a kunai. He immediately eases up on his attack and drives his knee up into his chin. Kabuto goes to grab his ankle and, in a moment of instinctual panic, Chidori flares to life and crackles down his body. Kabuto hisses and releases him, and Sasuke drops to the floor, sweeping his legs out from under him. 

He stabs his sword down, aiming for the chest, and Kabuto pushes away his hands. In terms of strength, this body is too weak to wrestle with him for much longer, so he jumps back and flies through the seals for Katon before exhaling a pillar of fire. Kabuto counters it with a water dragon, which upon contact with the inferno, explodes into hot, vaporized steam. His Sharingan gives him the advantage here, and he throws himself after Kabuto, escaping up the stone stairs. 

He keeps on alert for Orochimaru. He hasn’t felt him in the area yet, and he has Aya perched at the top of the building to warn him should anyone choose to drop in for a visit. 

In terms of speed, Sasuke has Kabuto outmatched. He uses shunshin to immediately negate the distance between them, when Aya appears next to him in a burst of smoke. 

_“The Sanin!”_ She cries. Sasuke bites down on a long string of curses and sets fire to the lower part of the building. Whatever Orochimaru is hoping to find down here, he won’t get it. The files and the prison cells and whatever they might yield burn to the ground. 

_Time to get the fuck out of here._

He leaps up the steps and out of the building, exhaling fire behind him, before turning and disappearing into the forest as quickly as humanly possible, cautious only to Kabuto’s location behind him. He’s far enough away that he feels a little better about his odds of getting away. If he needs to, he’s confident that he could outrun Orochimaru or Kabuto, but he might not be able to outlast them if they felt so inclined to pursue.

 _“Neither of them are moving.”_ Aya tunes in helpfully. 

Even so, he doesn’t stop until he’s to the nearest village, out of breath, heart a hummingbird pace in his throat. 

_“Why stop now?”_

In between breaths, he answers, “I’m less likely to be attacked in broad daylight here. In the forest we were vulnerable because we were alone. If Orochimaru attacks here, we’ll know before he gets to us.”

What were the chances that Orochimaru was at that very prison? 

Aya hops to the ground next to him. 

_“You’re breathing really heavy.”_

“I’m well aware.” He scowls. He runs a hand over his face. Kabuto had recognized him by the Sharingan - but just by looking at him, as well. Sasuke can’t imagine a situation where they’ve already met. He has no idea why Kabuto knew him by name. He should invest in a mask. “I didn’t plan to encounter them. I was unprepared.”

_“That lady is staring at you!”_

He still has his Sharingan activated, he realizes belatedly, and twin trails of blood are rolling down his face. Behind the counter, a woman watches him strangely. He bares his teeth and she immediately runs back inside. He scrubs the blood off his face and turns tiredly down to Aya. 

“Come on. We’re finding a place to stay.”

As it turns out, this particular village shares a main trade route with Konoha, which is bad for him if he doesn’t want to be potentially recognized (if Kabuto knows his face, then how many others do as well?), but beneficial in the sense that the travellers occasionally have intel on Orochimaru or the lesser known activity of the mysterious Akatsuki. He doubts Chiha will be back with any information anytime soon. The Akatsuki are paranoid enough to make it difficult for her to glean anything from them, but he’s really just looking for general information. He has a good idea of what their plans and members are like, but he would prefer he has evidence to back it up. 

At the moment, he sits at a bar, listening to an older man, red in the face, talk about his experience with a strange, ash-haired man with glasses. He lied that he was fourteen to get in once he saw that the group went inside, and the barkeep had given him a dubious glance before reluctantly letting him in. Konoha drinking age is even higher, but he doesn’t plan on indulging in alcohol. 

Apparently Kabuto is already considered a missing nin in three villages, which would certainly damage his ability to play spy. 

The man is in the middle of his story when he points to the door, where Aya is flapping her wings, alarmed. 

“That your summon, boy?” 

Sasuke slides off the bar stool and pads over to the doorway.

“What is it?” 

_“Sukai and… someone else are coming.”_

He stiffens. “Who?”

Sukai wasn’t due back for at least another day.

_“I don’t recognize the signature. It feels like a summons - nevermind. Sukai took care of it.”_

His fingers tighten around the crinkled paper edges of the map. If there were summons, that meant that there was someone ordering them. 

“Any other signatures in the area?”

 _“Nope!”_

Her cheer is abrasive. He rises to his feet and prowls the perimeter of the town before ducking into the forest. Something crashes in the undergrowth. Sparks hiss by clenched teeth, and he reaches for the spooled wire at his hip, but stops when he sees Sukai, one wing bent at a slightly awkward angle.

“What happened?”

He kneels down to get a better look at the joint. She doesn’t make a sound when he stretches the wing out, so the problem is the gash near the top of the primary feathers. That will heal easily enough. 

_“I was followed by a summons.”_ She huffs, pulling away from his touch. _“It was a crow.”_

Sasuke pauses. “... you’re sure?”

 _“Of course.”_ She snaps. 

The only person he knows that has a contract with crows is Itachi, but Sukai was sent to Konoha. But he shouldn't make assumptions. Not yet, at least.

“When did it start following you?”

 _“I only noticed it halfway back. The thing must’ve been following me since Konoha.”_ She shifts to better accommodate the injured wing. _“I think it was that brown haired kid by the river.”_

His fingers curl into fists. “Inside Konoha?”

_“Obviously.”_

But why would Itachi be in Konoha? 

His mind spins, and a horrible idea forms. 

_No, that can’t be-_

“Sukai.” He demands. “The Uchiha compound, you say it, didn’t you? What did it look like?”

 _“What kind of a question is that?”_ She glares. _“Like a compound.”_

“There were people in it?”

 _“Of course.”_

Sasuke stops breathing for a second.

_That means-_

_The Uchiha are alive._

Kabuto sets down a glass beaker at the end of his work bench as the test subject is herded back to his cell. The ceiling is lined with fluorescent panels, which cast sharp shadows on the floor. He scribbles his notes into the margins. It’s too bad, really, about the lab that was destroyed. It had been routine to check in on the latest strain of the curse mark, yet in development. The subject that escaped with the strain is likely to die before nightfall, without proper medical intervention, he muses. Still, the files lost were invaluable, and it will be a long time before he can recreate the exact environment and circumstances that produced the mutated strain in the first place. A shame, really.

Though, the identity of their budding arsonist is _far_ more intriguing than anything they could have found in the lab. 

“Kabuto.” Orochimaru drawls. “Anything to report on the fire in the labs today?”

Kabuto spins around in his chair, setting down his clipboard to give him his full attention.

“The intruder knocked out all four patrols we had, none had any lethal wounds, and all of them are expected to make a full recovery.” A full recovery from those wounds, anyways. The same could not necessarily be said after Kabuto was done with them. “The intruder used a Sharingan - it didn’t look implanted. He had the stereotypical main house characteristics of an Uchiha.”

Eye implantations rarely worked unless the participants shared close genetic ties. Kabuto was trained to recognize the signs of inflammation around the orbital, for broken blood vessels and excessive bleeding. “... and he responded to the name Sasuke.”

Orochimaru stills. “Oh?”

Kabuto reaches for the file he prepared. “According to Konoha, he’s been missing since he was five. No formal investigation was done and he was presumed dead a week later.” 

“According to Konoha…” Orochimaru hums. 

“He fared… surprisingly well against me in a fight, for a boy with no formal training.”

Orochimaru drums his fingers against the desk. “And you’re sure about the identity of the boy?”

“Completely. He looks virtually the same as he does in his file. He used the Sharingan and responded to the name Sasuke.” Kabuto pauses. “He also performed a variation of Chidori.”

As far as he’s aware, Kakashi is the only one who’s ever used it, and it’s designed as an assassination technique. Sasuke had used his sword to conduct electricity without having to produce too much himself. 

“How… interesting.” His lips curl into a smile. “In that case, I think we owe Danzo a visit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke is definitely not gonna handle that little revelation well. Also Danzo becomes even more suspicious. I'll get more into what's going on with Sakura and Mokuton later. I was going to put it in this chapter and then I realized it would be too long so I'm gonna hold off. I have reasons for putting Ino on team 7!! So the original team had a jinchuuriki and someone who could control it, ie Naruto and Sasuke. Sakura fulfills Sasuke's role by being able to control the Kyubei with Mokuton, so I was free to basically put any other one of the rookie 9 onto the team. I just chose Ino because I think her power is cool and she deserved more character development. Or like. Character.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


	3. Altar of the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Uchiha prepare for war, the Akatsuki begin to move, and Sasuke is hopelessly out of his depth.

Kakashi, surprising absolutely no one, is conspicuously missing. 

Team seven is already arranged on the bridge at seven sharp, Naruto draped over the railing and moaning about how early it is, Sakura and Ino leaning back opposite him, shoulders touching. It’s no use coming later. Kakashi seems to know when they aren’t here - Sakura is sure he’s a sensor type. His chakra control is probably the best she’s ever seen, far exceeding hers, even considering her training. 

Mokuton is difficult to control without an almost ridiculously large amount of chakra at her disposal. She’s better at rationing, making the best of her own rather limited chakra reserves. All things considered, she really shouldn’t have been one of the candidates for the Senju cell transplants. She’s aware that she was meant to be mere experimental fodder, given that she comes from a politically insignificant civilian family, and that she had probably been expected to reject the cells entirely, as so many others did. 

But, against all odds, she was compatible. Most of the other trials ended in failure, as far as she’s aware. A campaign originally proposed by Danzo with the backing of the scientific community, particularly concerning a branch of Orochimaru’s research that had resulted in Tenzo, modified for Konoha’s ethical purposes. While she has no doubt that Konoha doesn’t really care if a child from a civilian family dies in the name of scientific progress, in the interest of keeping face, all testees were guaranteed their survival. 

Sakura was too young to remember any of them. It’s mostly inconsequential.

What it _does_ tell her now is that Kakashi is most definitely a sensor and takes particular joy in causing the three of them suffering. He absolutely knows whether they’re on the bridge or not, because last week Ino showed up twenty minutes late and he made the three of them run ANBU drills until Naruto passed out. So far, his training has been… interesting, to say the least. Their initiation test, which decided whether or not they were getting thrown back into the academy, basically consisted of them trying to murder Kakashi until Ino made the teamwork connection - after all, a two-man genin squad has never been promoted.

What it _also_ tells her is that Naruto is under constant supervision by ANBU. She only knows that because she’s seen Tenzo perched on his roof, unbeknownst to Naruto himself, unsurprisingly. He’s probably the weakest sensor she’s ever seen. It’s actually kind of pathetic. 

“Is he really not here _again?_ ” Ino asks, throwing her head back with a groan. “I swear, if he makes us chase that same damn cat again-”

Kakashi appears in a swirl of leaves. Ino screeches. Naruto screams and nearly throws himself off the bridge. Sakura startles and raises a fist. 

Kakashi, who’s most definitely laughing at them from behind that mask of his, raises his hands diplomatically. “Good morning, ducklings! I have an exciting new mission for you all!”

Ino points a finger. “If this is about that cat again-”

“Nope! Mr. Snuggles is secure in his owner’s care.” 

With a name like that, Sakura understands why he keeps running away. She’s also not convinced he’s not a summon disguised as a cat, because she’s seen that thing run and that’s _definitely_ not normal. The only clan that typically uses cat summons are the Uchiha, though, and they would never subject themselves to something like that. 

“Our esteemed Hokage has approved your… requests… and assigned us a C-rank mission! Isn’t that exciting?”

He uses the term ‘request’ loosely. A request for mission approval usually goes through Iruka-sensei, who appraises the team’s ability before either authorizing the team to take the mission or prohibiting them from taking it, for any number of reasons. A stealth mission would be better suited for a team trained for stealth, a tracking mission for a tracking team like Kiba’s. Teams could also be banned from missions if there’s a conflict of interest, or if a team member or the team as a whole is emotionally or otherwise compromised. Naruto’s idea of request is essentially ‘scream at Iruka-sensei and or the Hokage until they give me a higher ranked mission.’

Sakura isn’t sure what kind of group they’re supposed to be. Stealth is off the table because Naruto is objectively the least subtle person she’s ever met, and Ino is rather… boisterous. She’s also prone to… a bit of temperamentality, emotionally speaking. They’re also a poor choice for tracking. Kakashi-sensei may have excellent chakra control, but that doesn’t mean any of his students do. Not to mention that he’s predisposed for summon compatibility - Sakura is null in this sense, and so is Ino. It’s likely not for political reasons, because while the Yamanaka clan is relatively well standing in the social hierarchy, they only hold as much political sway as any other clan - not as much as the Hyuga or Uchiha, but they definitely have a little presence. She isn’t from a clan and Naruto isn’t either, that she knows of, and Kakashi is the last of his line. And they’re certainly not together because their personalities are compatible. 

Sakura puts her hands on her hips. “Sensei, aren’t all missions that deal with foriegn countries automatically C-rank?”

So C-rank doesn't really mean anything actually exciting. Maybe they're chasing around a cat outside of Konoha. 

“That’s right Sakura.” He claps his hands together. Naruto bristles.

“Does that mean we’re not getting an actual mission?”

Ino scowls. “ _All_ missions are ‘actual missions’, Naruto!”

Kakashi makes a face that roughly translates to _oh no_. Sakura probably isn’t helping to de-escalate the issue by stepping forward on Ino’s side and crossing her arms. 

“ _Okay_ ducklings. Let’s not blow up any more bridges. The jonin are already coming up with names for us.” 

“What’s the mission?”

“Very simple.” He holds up a finger. “We’re escorting a bridge builder to the Land of Waves.”

“We get to go outside the village?” Ino perks up. 

“We do! And we’re already late to the briefing, so let’s get moving.”

He hops off the railing and starts walking at an unreasonably fast pace. The three of them struggle to compensate for his long stride.

“Wait up!” Ino yells, grabs Sakura’s wrist, and drags her forward. Naruto makes an indignant squawking noise and races after them. 

In the distance, the arches of the Hokage Residence gleam in the sun. 

Itachi spends the night listening to the Elders argue amongst themselves and whoever else cares to make their opinion heard. His father sits next to him, in the exact same position on his knees. Back straight. Chin tilted up. Itachi will soon take the mantle of clan head, whether he likes it or not - but he isn’t the only one with reservations. He’s made it clear that his values don’t line up with theirs. He has no intention to follow through with a coup. It would be considered traitorous to authorize a coup against the clan head’s orders, and the Elders know it.

Of course, this is all assuming they can hold off for another two years, or if his father proves he’s unsuitable for a leadership position. He’s far off from being twenty, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can placate Fugaku. He’s well aware that there’s little he can do by way of intervention, officially. He holds no power in anything other than status. The other Uchiha his age have made it very clear that they don’t approve of his stance.

Sasuke’s disappearance struck something in him. As he shed his adolescence, he too shed his unshakable loyalty to the village. The village that had ultimately condemned his brother to death. As he’d peeled past the layers of mystery that surrounded his missing brother, he learned more about Danzo, the lengths that the Sandaime went to protect him.

(He knows he’s been collecting Uchiha eyes. He knows he’s been taking Uchiha children. Fugaku knows. His mother knows. Shisui knows. He’s sure the Elders do, too. He can only hope that Sasuke isn’t among them, but that hope draws thinner as the years pass).

Nevertheless, he doesn’t believe that a coup will solve the issue. It might exacerbate it, actually. In numbers, the Uchiha are outmatched by Konoha Jonin, even if not in skill. The Uchiha have a reputation for their terrifying strength for a reason. But he isn’t positive that the Uchiha would win anyways.

“What do you plan to do, then? Condemn our children to a life of segregation? Add to our long list of grievances? To our infamous legacy?” Behind the veiled woman, fire hisses and flares, turning the room hot and dry. Sparks jump from the coalbeds, onto the tile floor, stained with ash. On the wall hang three swords, each one forged on the very coals beneath them a hundred years ago when the Uchiha first arrived in Konoha. They have a long history of smithing. “If not this, then what?”

Fugaku’s jaw tightens. “I do not disagree with you. But this level of attack-”

“Is necessary.” She finishes coldly.

“Is unfeasible at this time.” He corrects carefully. “We don’t have the resources - if we’re to endure a counter attack from the village now, our clan will be exterminated.”

Itachi shifts slightly to alleviate the pressure on his knees - yesterday a target got in a lucky hit that had torn a gash at the junction between knee and shin. The medics were so preoccupied with his teammates he was attended to through conventional means. Fugaku glares at him sharply, and he immediately straightens. 

He can’t afford to be perceived as weak by anyone in attendance. There are hundreds of eyes watching him now. They’re setting an example, a precedent.

The fire roars. 

“What do you propose to compensate, then?” 

“Perhaps, in time this will be a realistic approach, but right now political subterfuge guarantees safety. Itachi has cemented himself as a loyal figure of Konoha already. There are no doubts of his character.”

Itachi is well aware that he’s being used as a political pawn on both sides - Fugaku uses him to infiltrate the Sandaime’s ranks, the Sandaime uses him to spy on the Uchiha and cultivate the persona of a perfect soldier. 

Beneath their veils, three sets of eyes flick to him. He can tell that their Sharingans are activated; an invitation and challenge to activate his own, as well. A show of trust, to look one Sharingan eye in the other. 

“Itachi Uchiha.” Her voice echoes through the room. “Where do your loyalties lie?” 

Itachi bows his head perfectly, until his forehead nearly touches the tile. His loyalties are malleable, Right now they lie with Shisui and Sasuke’s nebulous existence. 

“With my clan.” 

“He has proven his loyalty many times over.” Fugaku interjects, shifting the focus away from him. “There’s no need to question his devotion to the clan.”

“We shall see.” She says. “This meeting is adjourned.”

The ceremonial fire immediately extinguishes. 

Kakashi’s new genin are an… interesting bunch. Their dynamic is probably the most amusing - and tiresome - thing about them. They wouldn’t know teamwork if it hit them in the face and Sakur and Ino seem determined not to accept Naruto on equal terms. Of course, that goes both ways, and Naruto is similarly reluctant to acknowledge the merits of either of his teammates. Yesterday the three of them got beaten fighting Team Eight because they couldn’t stop bickering long enough to get swept up in a trap, and Sakura had almost smashed herself and her teammates to death with Mokuton on multiple occasions. Clearly she hasn’t trained herself to use it around _other people._

Kakashi has absolutely no idea what to do with them. The only silver lining is that there’ve been no tears as of yet. 

Fortunately, he’s saved from having to think too deeply about this unfortunate situation when Itachi enters the locker room. 

He pauses. “... Kakashi? What are you doing here?”

“Packing for a mission. I left one of my shirts here.”

“With your genin?”

“Those are the ones.”

Itachi looks dishevelled. His hair, tied back, is loose, tension tight around his eyes and mouth. 

Kakashi latches onto this to spin the conversation away from his terrible luck with his genin. “Another meeting?”

Itachi sighs heavily, letting his shoulders drop, and Kakashi is reminded of how very young Itachi is, a fact that everyone has seemed to discard since he demonstrated his tremendous abilities. A willing choice, he knows. A diversion so that no one had to apply any critical thinking skills to the fact that they had turned a twelve year old into a weapon. 

“The Elders… don’t approve of me.”

Kakashi snorts. “Me neither.”

The edge of his mouth tips into a grin. Kakashi receiving a Sharingan was an absolute _shitshow,_ carrying ramifications that neither he nor Obito, likely, had foreseen. Obito hadn't been very well educated on the finer workings of the Uchiha clan. First, they had demanded it be removed, or Kakashi killed. It was taboo for an outsider to possess a Sharingan, a deep seated paranoia formed from years of kekkei genkai theft. It would encourage others to steal Uchiha eyes - even if he was technically an outlier. By all means, the implantation shouldn’t have been successful. 

He’d ultimately been saved by a little known loophole that essentially made Kakashi a relative of the Uchiha. The eye transplant could be considered sharing blood, which also came with the implication that Kakashi married into the Uchiha clan and was considered part of the clan. 

Kakashi looks back down to the torn ANBU armor in his lap. He’s in the process of stitching it back together. He has yet to collect his ANBU mask from his old locker. Ibiki keeps telling him to go get it and he keeps putting it off. He doesn’t really want it in his house.

“They giving you trouble again?”

“You’d be hard pressed to find a time that they weren’t.”

Itachi collapses back into his chair.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Looking for Shisui.”

“Did he set fire to another building?” Itachi huffs a laugh. Kakashi can’t count how much money that little brat took out of his paycheck in property damage. It’s actually almost impressive. 

“No, no. I just need to talk to him about something. And he skipped another meeting.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Is it Danzo?” He asks absentmindedly, keeping his tone deliberately light. 

“For once, no.” Itachi runs a hand through his hair, shaking it loose from its ponytail. “That’s what worries me.”

Kakashi arches an eyebrow.

“Shisui saw a hawk watching the compound. He didn’t recognize it and I had one of my crows tail it. It was headed towards stone country when it was killed.”

Well, Danzo would’ve been Kakashi’s first guess, too. Next it would be one of the other clans, but none of them are known for their summons, and especially not if the hawk was headed towards stone country. They aren’t affiliated with stone politically, but they aren’t at war either. Not to mention, if it came from outside the village, it should’ve set off the seals that indicated foriegn chakra. All summons had the same chakra signature as their summoner; if it wasn’t a Konoha signature associated with any Konoha clans, then it should’ve been recorded.

“Odd.”

“It could still be Danzo.” Itachi says. “Unlikely, though.”

Danzo’s paranoia and general xenophobia is unparalleled, truly.

“Who else could it be?”

Itachi shrugs a shoulder. “A political enemy, maybe. But if that were the case it should’ve been surveilling the Hokage Residence or the jonin.”

Kakashi hums. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Itachi glances down to the torn garment. “How are you handling your genin team?”

“Well, the other day they managed to blow up a bridge. I think Shisui would be impressed.”

Itachi grimaces. “Never tell him that.” 

Kakashi scoffs. “We have a mission tomorrow. The Land of Waves.” Kakashi knows what Itachi is going to ask before he has the chance to say it. “I’ll look out for any clues, okay?”

“Thank you.” His entire form seems to sag with relief. “I appreciate it.”

Kakashi pats him on the shoulder. 

It’ll be a miracle if he survives this trip.

Sasuke is curled up on the ground when he comes to, his knees tucked to his chest, his cheek pressed into the grass. There’s a pressure behind his eyes that suggests something very uncomfortable and a stiffness in his lower back as he slowly, cautiously uncurls.

Aya hops on the ground in front of him. _“Oh, you’re better now.”_

Sukai isn’t far behind her. _“Jeez, kid. What was that about?”_

He takes a deep breath that makes his ribs hurt and coughs away the phlegm in his throat. He touches a hand to his face. They’re mercifully dry. Good. Anything to make this situation less mortifying than it already is. 

He pulls a hand through his tangled hair. “Nothing.”

That means the clan is alive, the clan is alive and Itachi was never ordered to kill them and _Itachi is still in Konoha._ Itachi is alive and he’s okay and his family is _alive-_ He inhales through his teeth and forces himself up. 

_“Steady.”_ Sukai says, jumping after him. 

Itachi is in Konoha. The Uchiha are alive.

That changes things. He _changed_ things. 

That’s a _big fucking change._ And he can’t linger on it right now, because if he does he’ll go insane. 

He runs a weary hand over his face, shaking his hands loose. They're trembling. “Anything else about Konoha? What about Naruto?”

Sukai shakes any previous concern away, but he knows she can see him shaking. _“Everything looked normal enough. Like any other human city. The Jinchuuriki is fine. Surrounded by ANBU at all times.”_

Sasuke pauses. Naruto should have graduated the academy right now, Sakura too.

“Did you see what team he’s on?”

_“A white haired Jonin. They call him friend killer.”_

Kakashi. That means he still ends up on his team, which isn’t really surprising. “Who’s on the team?” 

Sukai sighs deeply. _“A pink haired girl who commands the trees, a blonde girl and the Jinchuuriki.”_

Sasuke pauses. A pink haired girl who commands the trees? She can’t possibly mean…

If this much is changed, how much else has changed? The line of thought makes him nauseous. 

He needs to focus on the Jinchuuriki. He just needs to focus on them. If Madara starts another apocalypse everyone will be dead again anyways so he can’t think about it, not right now. Maybe not ever. Just not right now.

“Aya, do you know where Tenku is?”

Aya puffs out her feathers and closes her eyes in concentration. _“Nope! He’s still really far away. Someone else is coming though. They feel… strange.”_

“What?” He snaps. “Who? How far away?”

_“Really far away. Like, super far. We’re closer to Tenku than he is.”_

Sasuke frowns. “How do you know it’s a he?”

 _“I just do. He’s farther away. He’s… a summon? He’s riding a summon? He’s heading towards Shukaku’s Jinchuuriki.”_

She knows the name of the Ichibi?

Sasuke frowns. If this person is powerful enough to warrant Aya’s consternation, then that doesn’t bode well for them. Was the Akatsuki on the move this early last time? Of course, they might be better organized now, which means they _could_ be. And really, in a few months, the Hokage might be dead and Kisame and -

Not Itachi, he reminds himself sharply, since Itachi is apparently in the village. Since Itachi didn’t kill the clan.

He forces those thoughts before they can spiral out of control.

Anyways, a few months is negligible in the grand scheme of things. 

Gaara. The Akatsuki might be after him. And is apparently using a summons. He isn’t sure if any of them used summons, though. Orochimaru had compiled a rather thorough file on the Akatsuki, chalked thick with their abilities. He had taken particular interest in Kakuzu’s ability, which hadn't been helpful the first time around since Sasuke never fought him. 

“Can you tell the chakra nature?”

She pauses. _“Earth.”_

That means… he grimaces. It’s likely Deidara, then. Fighting Deidara is the _last_ thing he should be doing in this body. Suna isn’t particularly well known for their superior military, though. He could tip off a few jonin about the situation, but they’re not likely to fare well against an Akatsuki member. Which means that Sasuke has to deal with this situation himself.

He sighs. “Is he still moving?”

 _“Yeah. He hasn’t stopped but we’re still closer.”_

His materials are inadequate for trekking across a desert. If he travels on foot he won’t be fast enough. 

He resists the urge to put his head in his hands. He’s better than that.

“Alright, fine. I need to summon Moya, then.”

 _“Sukai doesn’t like Moya.”_ Aya points out unhelpfully. Sukai is lurking in the branches above, watching them sharply and probably listening in to the conversation.

“Sukai doesn’t like anyone.” He replies, and dumps the rest of his supplies unceremoniously in his pack. It’s been two weeks and already he’s uprooting himself again. He’ll have to stop at the next town over if he wants clothing appropriate for desert travel, and more water canteens. He kicks dirt over the ashes of the fire and disarms the complex systems of traps he set up, peeling the seals off the trees. He might need to get some sort of a mask, too, if he hopes to keep up his anonymity. 

He grimaces, as he unrolls the summoning contract and places his hand on the seal. He’s not prepared to fight Deidara. He thought he’d have another few weeks at least to prepare. He should’ve known better. It shouldn’t be too hard this time now that he knows just what he’s fighting, and if he _really_ needs to he can use the Rinnegan, but he really shouldn’t. In the interest of him not dying, he should probably avoid using it at all costs. The Mangekyo is… not much better, but he can probably pull it off.

If he can win a fight against Deidara, he can definitely win a fight against Orochimaru, anyways. 

Moya appears in a large burst of smoke. She’s much larger than the rest of the hawks - easily big enough to ride, especially since he’s not a good foot and a half shorter. Sukai glares from the tree branches, and is ignored. 

Moya takes more energy to summon than the rest of the hawks, as both the oldest and the largest, so he lets Sukai slip back into the spirit realm. Their coven is relatively new, compared to other summons, and Moya is it’s leader. Even-tempered and level headed, she’s easily his favorite. He raises a hand, and she bows her head, so he runs his fingers through her sleek plumage before clambering up on her back. 

“Can you bring me to Suna?” He asks. 

_“Of course.”_ Her voice is a low trill, like the breeze through wind chimes. _“You are very light.”_

Which he doesn’t appreciate. 

Aya perches on his arm. He’ll need her to give more detailed directions, once they’re closer. Here’s to hoping that he _doesn’t_ actually have to fight Deidara, but hope has never gotten him very far before. 

“We’ll stop at the next trading post.” He says. He’ll pick up whatever he needs there. Unfortunately, most of his weaponry is gone - unique to the Uchiha clan, forged by their fire, nearly impossible to recreate - so he’ll have to make do with what he has on him and whatever he can find at the next outpost. “Aya, keep me updated.”

 _“Sure!”_ She chirps.

“Moya.”

She makes a sound of agreement, and a few powerful downstrokes leave them airborne. 

Sasuke takes a shaky breath and inhales deeply, starting to build up his chakra reserves again. He’s gotten noticeably better, but it might not be enough to win against Deidara.

Well, he supposes, it’s not like he has any other choice.

This mission, Ino decides judicially, is the _worst._ First they’re attacked by Chunin pretending to be a puddle (Sakura almost smashed one’s skull in which was _almost_ more satisfying than it was horrifying) and Ino reacted fast enough to put herself between the old drunkard and the Chunin’s retractable claws, which seemed to replace his hands, for some ungodly reason, before Sakura wrapped them both in Mokuton and Kakashi-sensei successfully incapacitated them both, effectively stealing her thunder, but whatever, she’s not mad about it. At least they’re all still alive.

Naruto, on the other hand, seems _extremely_ mad about it. Mad enough that he stabs himself through the hand with a kunai. 

Next, they’re attacked by Zabuza, an _S-class missing nin_. To make matters worse, Kakashi-sensei apparently has a Sharingan, and Ino is a clan heiress, she fully understands the many implications of a non-Uchiha carrying a Sharingan, and using it drains his chakra so bad it knocks him out. Not to mention the ANBU-marauding kid apparently sent to dispose of Zabuza’s dead body, except Ino grew up around ANBU and TI, and she knows extensively about ANBU protocol, which he _definitely_ isn’t following. 

(Of course, she wasn't quick enough to stop him, but she announced, high pitched and angry and _so_ tired of this awful mission, that, “That guy is _alive!_ ”)

Now, Kakashi-sensei is being carried in a crudely-formed box Sakura made from Mokuton that reminds her uncomfortably of a coffin. If his expression is any indication, he has the same reaction. 

Eventually they reach a quaint little house near the water with chipping paint near the door. Everything about this mission has been terrible, but-

The expression of the woman who answers the door, though, is _priceless._

Kakashi knew the mission was compromised the moment they’re attacked by accomplished Chunin and not petty thieves. For him, this mission isn’t particularly dangerous. He’s a household name, printed in Bingo books, a former ANBU captain. The genin, though, he worries for. He internalizes it, preferring to hide his concern beneath curved shoulders and a relaxed curve to his spine. Worrying them won’t do any good. 

Tazuna has brought them here under false pretenses. He understands, though. The Land of Waves is plagued by economic depression. Gato has a monopoly on trade that Konoha perpetuates for the sake of trade benefits. Tazuna simply doesn’t have the money to request anything higher ranked. He stays for that reason alone, and out of a sense of obligation towards Itachi. He promised he would look for anything concerning his missing brother, and he intends to follow through on it.

With his genin learning how to climb trees, he’s free to scout in the town square for awhile. Trafficking rings are more often found in plain sight rather than in the shady cesspools of the town - though they can be there, as well. Gang violence is rampant here. The townspeople are currently being terrorized by one such gang led by a man with clear affiliation to Gato. If that building mysteriously catches fire, well, that’s an unfortunate coincidence. 

No sign of Sasuke, though. 

Eventually he wanders back to the forest to see that Sakura is already sitting on a thicker branch, kicking her legs while Naruto struggles below, occasionally yelling obscenities that startle the birds overhead. He watches Ino eventually get up to the branch, wrapping her arms around it for dear life, covered in bramble and leaves. Sakura snickers behind her hand.

“You!” Naruto yells. “Where’ve you been?!”

“Oh, you know. Sightseeing. Visiting the tourist attractions.”

“There are no tourist attractions here…” Sakura grumbles. 

Well, she’s not wrong. 

“Sakura, Ino, since you’ve mastered this technique, you’ll be Tazuna’s bodyguards tomorrow.” 

‘Mastered’ is a strong word, but they both have the basics down. Naruto, on the other hand, has so much sheer chakra that regulating it is nearly impossible. It’ll probably take him a bit more time to control it.

“Naruto, take another day, keep working on it, and then you can join your teammates.”

Naruto silently fumes.

Naruto knows something is wrong the second the chakra in the air thickens with malice. It takes him longer to realize it’s coming from him. His vision pulses red and sharpens as orange, bubbling chakra oozes off him. His heartbeat roars in his ears like the tide. Sakura has given up trying to smash through the mirror with Mokuton. He doesn’t know where Ino went. The needles that had pierced through bone, muscle and cartilage fall out harmlessly, the wounds left behind sealing shut. Muscle and tendons stitch themselves back together. 

He feels it as he breathes through his teeth, as the world begins to fade and splice together with another one, corridors filled with brassy pipes and nodules and filled with warm, stagnant water. The air, hot and humid, sticks to his lungs. His hand burns and he grabs at his wrist with clawed fingers. 

“Boy.” The Kyubei growls. His breath hisses through the bars like steam. His eyes, bleeding with malevolence, a formless mass of pure hatred, “That mark you have.”

It presses closer to the cage, pushing through the black bars. Naruto’s breath comes too quick, too fast, and he falls back, splashing into the hot, dark water, the pain all consuming, the Kyubei’s clawed hand reaching through the cage bars to rip his heart from his chest, he can’t _breathe-_

And then the world comes back to him. His cheek is pressed to cold concrete, a million pieces of ice shattered around him, and Kakashi is speaking to him softly, crouched next to him. His hand is burning and his fingers tremble, his throat closing as he tries to swallow. 

_What happened to Haku? Where’s Sakura, where’s-_

He stops suddenly, and Kakashi’s hand freezes by his shoulder. 

There’s blood on the ground, and he can’t tell if it’s his, or-

“Where,” He croaks. Kakashi is staring at him. He works his jaw around the next word, a sudden desperation coming over him.

“ _Sasuke._ ” He manages, before he loses consciousness. 

Sasuke is in the air when he feels it.

Lightning pain hisses down his arm, settling just below the wrist on the palm, skin burning and prickling uncomfortably. He turns his left arm hand over and prods at the mark - the crescent moon still branded on his skin, and sits, stumped. 

Wind whistles through his hair, Moya’s muscles shift beneath him as she stretches her wings to catch the hot updraft. Sand buries itself in his hair, in her wings. He can feel her discomfort as she flies through the hot, dry wind, sand catching in his eyelashes. He keeps his hood low over his head, crouched close to Moya’s body. He’s grateful for the clothing he had picked up at the last outpost before the stretch of desert began in earnest, even if she did warn him against braving the desert alone. No part of him is exposed now, because Uchiha are susceptible to sunburn, draped in loose, breathable clothing. 

The stinging continues, but he couldn’t say why. He resists the urge to irritate it further. 

Something flickers through him, and he realizes, ice dropping into his stomach, that the bond goes _two ways_ and that means if he has the moon mark, then… 

He’s vaguely aware of Naruto’s chakra on the other side of the bond, so oblique that it’s generally negligible, which explains why he hadn't noticed it before. The signature changes, ever so slightly, but he’s so well versed in Naruto’s signature that he knows that something’s changed. 

How many other things, he thinks, heart sinking, did he carry over?

Temari watches, perched atop a sand dune, one knee pulled to her chest, as her youngest brother paces beneath her. He has that same glazed over, hungry look in his eyes that he had when he crushed the palace guard to death with his sand. His hands twitch, his breath coming sharp and fast, unperturbed by the heat or the harsh angle of the sun. Beneath him, the sand ripples in response to his capricious emotions. Her fist tightens around the edge of her fan, prepared to defend herself if push comes to shove. She knows she wouldn’t win, but it dispels some of the paranoia. 

She’s so _sick_ of being afraid of her brother. 

This part of the desert is quiet, and almost completely uninhabited. Behind her in the distance stand the regal stone walls of Sunagakure, further the Kazekage Residence, boxed in by walls of packed red clay, more to keep Suna’s monster in than to keep anything out. 

(There are no monsters beneath Temari’s bed, but one sleeps in the room next to hers).

She watches a wave of hot, sun-bleached sand rise in a tidal wave, smashing a scorpion by Gaara’s foot to pieces. He kicks through the sand, looking for anything else to kill. 

She always takes him out here whenever he works himself into one of his fits. When the demon bubbles up beneath his skin, reflected in his glassy green eyes. 

His head snaps up when he feels the approaching chakra signature. She’s on her feet in an instant, ready to tell them to run even though she knows they have no chance of escape, not when Gaara is like this.

They come in the shape of a bird. It hovers high in the air, the beat of its powerful wings kicking up gusts of hot, flaxen sand. There’s a kid - _tiny_ \- no older than eleven perched on its back. He’s missing a hitai-ate that connects him to any village, wrapped in heat-reflecting gear specific to Suna that suggests he’s prepared to journey into the intense conditions of the desert, his hair a deep, stark black. 

Slowly, the bird, the summons, lowers itself down, and she has to scream, _"Wait!”_ , as Gaara turns his head up, grin wide enough to break his face in half, trembling all over, raising one pale hand his way. The boy slides off the summons with a practiced ease, and midair, his dark eyes bleed red. Black tomoe pinwheel in his eyes and Gaara crumples onto the sand. Temari leaps off the dune, summoning a gust of wind that deposits her safely at Gaara’s side, her fingers flying to catch his sluggish pulse. 

“A genjutsu.” The boy says. His voice is hoarse - probably from the heat. “He’s fine. You need to get him out of here, now.”

“You’re an Uchiha.” She hefts Gaara up, but only manages partway. The gourd on his back contributes to his dead weight. The implications of an Uchiha in Suna - of an Uchiha attacking the _son of the Kazekage_ (though technically, her mind whispers, it was self defense) - are innumerable, and none of them have any positive consequence. The Chunin exams are in a hanful of weeks, they've been maintaining peaceful, diplomatic relationships. They can't throw that all away because some rogue Uchiha decided to show up. “You can’t, you-”

“I’m not affiliated with any village.” He says sharply. “Now _get him out of here._ There’s a man from the Akatsuki here to take his tailed beast. I don’t need to tell you that that will _kill him._ ” When it becomes clear that Temari can’t drag him all the way through the desert, he flicks his hand and the summon lands, somewhat grudgingly, on the sand. She watches him run a hand down her neck in apology as they load a semi-conscious Gaara onto the creature’s back.

“There.” He points to the grand spires of the city in the distance. His eyes flick back to the hawk at his arm, much smaller, as it starts shrieking. 

“ _Shit._ ” He hisses. He whirls around. “ _Get out of here._ ”

“I’ll help you.” She scowls, holding her fan tighter. She’d complied mostly out of shock. She shouldn’t be trusting him. “If it’s like you say, then you shouldn’t be fighting on your own.”

His eyes flash red. “I can take care of myself-”

Whatever he’s about to say is cut off when, in the distance, a crudely shaped bird made of white clay shoots over the horizon, deep black sockets where its eyes should be, as if someone ripped them out. 

The boy curses, and looks over his shoulder. “He’s an earth nature, he makes exploding clay. _Don’t slow me down._ ”

He pulls a sword from his waist, and the sound of chirping birds fills the air.

The monstrosity hovers over them, and a man with long blonde hair leans over its shoulder, his teeth bared in a grin. 

“Two brats.” He drawls, waving a hand that has a grotesque mouth on the palm. “How about you two kids hand over the Jinchuuriki for me and I don’t blow you to pieces with my art?”

The boy’s eyes glow red beneath his hood. His eyes lock with hers, his chin resting on his knuckles. “No? Nothing to say? What about you, girlie? You wanna tell me where you hid him?”

It’s hard to breathe through the chakra he’s exuding. 

Lightning, bright and crackling like chirping birds, shoots down his sword. 

“You better be ready.” He bites out, adjusts his grip, and charges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything in this chapter escalated quickly. The Uchiha are getting fed up, the Akatsuki decide to go after Gaara like four years early, and Sasuke is handling the conspicuous lack of a massacre by not handling it at all. Also I love the sand sibs and think they have a dynamic that deserves to be explored more. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	4. Equinox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I looked up when microscopes were invented for this chapter and let me tell you I was not prepared for the answer '1509'. I don't know why I found that so jarring, just thought I'd share.

This time around, Sasuke knows better than to wait. It’s unfortunate that he has to be in this body, but at least this time he doesn’t have to drag out the fight to make sure of his hypothesis. Deidara’s grin, sharp teeth gnashed into an unhinged smile, leers down at him. Sasuke wonders idly if he has the same disdain for the Sharingan in this universe, where his brother and the clan are alive-

The dragon’s mouth opens and from its jaws drools an army of misshapen monstrosities, crafted by Deidara’s hand - in a more literal sense than you might assume. They stumble on thin, disfigured legs, hips too thin and uneven to support their movement, hollow eye sockets deep and black, cracked around the diameter. 

He hears Temari hiss a long string of curses behind him as he hurtles forward, electricity crackling over his body - as little as he can get away with. She can probably handle the small fry by herself. 

He smashes through the first two with ease, rendering them puddles on the sand. The wind is picking up, tossing up a volley of sand - almost as hot as the breeze itself - with it. It pulls viciously at his hair, at his hood, decreasing visibility. If he keeps the Sharingan open for too long, it starts to sting. 

He ducks under a swinging, malformed limb - shaped roughly like a club, lacking anything that could be considered a hand or fingers, rotating nauseatingly at the shoulder and rips his sword through the clay before jumping up and onto the next one, not bothering to see if his attack was as successful as he intended, before using it as a kickstand. He channels chakra into his feet and gets just close enough to watch Deidara’s eyes widen in surprise at his speed, but not close enough to dismember the dragon. If he wants to stop it, his best bet is probably to separate the head from the shoulders. 

The Sharingan catches his hands as they form a seal - one associated with earth - and he realizes a second too late what it’s meant to do. Chidori flashes down his sword, lightning like serrated teeth bared at the edge of his blade, extending ever so slightly as he flips backwards and shaves off part of its underside. 

The explosions are set off in a chain reaction. As the ones beneath begin to go off, like thunder rocking the earth beneath him, kicking up plumes of thick white smoke, his Sharingan bleeds into the Mangekyo, and a half formed ribcage manifests around him, bathing the surroundings in eerie purple light.

Temari is back at the top of the hill, surrounded on all sides by clambering clay monsters attempting to scale the hot sand. She turns to him just as the ones around her begin to detonate, and Sasuke lands beside her, rolling to avoid the brunt of the fall. She passes easily into his field of chakra as the explosions go off around her.

“What-?” She glances at him, wide eyed, her knuckles white around her fan. 

Another vertebrae stretches up from the spine, a fourth rib trying desperately to manifest, amorphous, flickering purple mass pulsing as it extends in the vague shape of a rib. He grimaces as it grates on his already limited chakra. 

He scans the desert. Between the wind whipping sand around and the towering smoke concealing where Deidara may or may not be, it’s tracking powers are functionally useless. He doesn’t think an imperfect susanoo will be enough to withstand Deidara’s suicide bomber move if it comes to that - and if he lets this fight drag on for too long, it _will._ Deidara is as temperamental as his craft, and he’s mostly concerned with the Akatsuki out of self interest - he can’t say what exactly they’ve done, but he assumes that it must have something to do with refuge. He _is,_ after all, an S-class missing nin and a terrorist bomber. Getting the Jinchuuriki comes second to him - if he believes he’s being pushed into a corner, then he’ll activate it and all of them get to go back to being cosmic dust. 

“The smoke.” He turns sharply to her. Her face dawns immediately with understanding, and a few powerful gusts of wind dispel most of the visual obstruction. He doesn’t let susanoo fade, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek, just in case Deidara tries to pull something else.

And he’s rewarded for his caution when a new monstrosity appears from far above where Deidara’s parked himself, falling from the dragon’s jaws to smash them both to death. Temari jumps and then he does, straight down into the sea of clay beneath them. It slams a clawed, grooved arm down, clearly with the intention of crushing them. He darts out of the way, the skeleton flickering around him as it catches on an outer rib. He grits his teeth as pain lances through his side, before appraising it again. It’s too thick to cut through with his sword alone. 

He glances back at Temari, creating a cyclone of howling wind with a swing of her fan. 

He jumps up to perch on the thing’s shoulder as it swipes at him. He channels Chidori again, extending it as far as it will go. The sound intensifies as he carves through its neck and it liquifies immediately into a lifeless puddle. Wet clay splashes over the front of his clothes.

“Temari!” He snaps.

She turns just in time to almost get her head bitten off. She jumps back, summoning a gust of wind to plant her right next to him. 

_“What?”_

“I can’t get up that far.” He jerks his chin in Deidara’s direction before effortlessly slicing through four approaching monsters in one fluid motion. “Your wind-”

“Can propel you.” She realizes. “We can try.” 

Sasuke glances back up at the dark, shadowed figure of the dragon hovering above. He can’t see Deidara above very well, but he’s moving in a way that suggests he’s making hand seals. Susanoo once again flares around him, challenging the limits of his chakra control as the shoulders form, hard, calcified bone turned violet. His control flickers for a moment when an explosion shakes the ground beneath - one of the clay monsters must have burrowed beneath the ground, and Temari goes flying. She manages to swing back with her fan, but it won’t be enough to get her out of range.

He manifests a skeletal arm out of sheer will, weak and quivering. It closes around her and she doesn’t have the chance to so much as scream as the explosions go off around her, reeling her back in. He pours as much chakra as he dares into it, feeling the pull of exhaustion and chakra depletion in his bones. He collapses back into the sand, unable to sustain it any longer, before another explosion goes off somewhere beneath his feet. 

Temari grabs him roughly by the shoulder and drags him out of the way before the explosion can kill him, but shrapnel slices its way through his uncovered face, beneath his chin and down his neck, burying itself anywhere it can find. 

“Are you okay?”

_“Fine.”_ He manages through grit teeth. The world wavers at the corners, tunnel vision collapsing in. If he can get close enough to aim Amaterasu, they can finish the fight. “I need to get closer to him.” 

She nods sharply, pulling him roughly to his feet. He’s airborne in a jarring second; one second his feet are on the ground and the next he’s rocketing upward towards Deidara. He’s forming hand signs again, but Sasuke won’t give him the chance.

The dragon’s back erupts into towering black flames. 

Another gust of wind prevents him from falling to his death when he tips back, exhaustion taking hold of him. He catches himself on one hand, flipping back onto his knees. His shoulders heave with the effort. His vision wavers and his breath stutters in his throat. He’s covered in blood and clay and sand, it’s unbearably hot, and he’s going to succumb to chakra exhaustion any second now. 

Temari leans over him, expression creased in worry, her image wavering and blurry. Her voice goes distorted and distant-sounding, and the last thing he sees is her head darting up just before he blacks out.

Temari watches with a detached sort of horror as the dragon plummets to the ground, plagued with merciless black flames, so dark they seem to absorb all the light like an infinite, self-sustaining black hole, sucking the warmth right from her bones. Black, ice cold flames that ate and ate, even after the clay dragon and army melt away to nothing. They hungrily consume everything they touch. 

Her heart pounds in her throat. A bead of sweat rolls down her temple. 

She glances down at the boy at her feet. He had… summoned the fire. 

She taps his cheek. “Hey, you.” 

His eyelids flutter, but otherwise, he doesn’t stir.

“You don’t get to save my brother and then die.” She glances back at the walls of clay and stone protecting Suna. It’s unreasonable to assume no one had heard their fight - even more so that no one had felt it. Neither of them had been subtle, exactly. She turns her attention back to him - half dead. Covered in scrapes and cuts, expression scrunched up and eyes glazed over feverishly when she forces one open. The flush of adrenaline rides high and splotchy on his cheekbones. 

He’s definitely Uchiha, through and through, if there were ever any doubts. Maybe even main house, by the looks of him. If she were to be seen carrying him into the village - no, if he were seen here at all, half dead, on top of that, she’d be jeopardizing the peace treaty they have with Konoha. Unless he’s actually some awful missing nin in disguise (which she _seriously_ doubts, considering his age), she’s certain that the clan will be _furious._

Whatever the case, she shouldn’t keep him out here. The last thing anyone wants is to get sand in open wounds. The least she can do is get him to a healer before he has the chance to keel over. It would be in poor taste to just leave him in the middle of the desert, after all.

She crouches, maneuvering him onto her back. She has a good foot on him, so he isn’t too difficult to carry. She fits a henge over the both of them, so she’s just a dark haired girl carrying her feverish brother through the dusty, narrow streets.

At the edge of town, she finds a familiar hut with walls made of packed clay, stones lined around the perimeter. She knocks harshly on the door before kicking it open, deprived of the use of her hands.

From a wooden table, Chiyo glares at her, the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth drawing sharp. 

“Temari.” She drawls disdainfully, in her old, creaking voice. Arthritic fingers tremble in their hold around her ceramic mug. “I knew I should never have given you my new address. Take off that ridiculous disguise of yours.” She glances, unimpressed, to the figure on her back. “Who’s your new friend? Not Gaara, I would hope.” 

“Nice to see you too.” Temari bares her teeth, letting the henge slip. The last time she’d seen Chiyo, the last time she’d voluntarily sought her out, was because Gaara had broken Kankuro’s arm horribly and she didn’t want either of them to get in trouble with the guards, or worse, their father. “I need you to help him.”

She shrugs a shoulder. The boy’s feverish forehead rolls onto her shoulder. 

Chiyo startles somewhat at his distinctive appearance. She hobbles over, her bad leg lagging behind her, to yank the hood off his head.

“An Uchiha.” She hisses, stepping away as if burned. Temari resists the urge to roll her eyes. 

“Astute observation.” She says dryly. “Can you help him or not?” 

Chiyo purses her lips. “What did you do to him? If you kidnapped that boy-”

“I didn’t _kidnap_ him-”

“Whatever you did, he shouldn't be here.” She glares pointedly, “If anyone figures out he’s here, our treaty is put in jeopardy.” She huffs. “Not that it would be such a bad thing. Suna has no business colluding with that damn village…”

“Which is why I came here under henge.” She grits her teeth.

“I don’t suppose he has anything to do with the chakra in the desert?”

Temari freezes.

_“Look.”_ She says, a warning edge to her voice. “He saved me and Gaara, so put whatever stupid grudge you have against him for one second, you stupid hag-”

“Hag?” She raises an eyebrow. “Careful what words you use there, missy. I’m willing to blame that lack of critical thinking on the concussion.”

“I’m not concussed.”

She grabs her jaw, angling her face down to look at her eyes. “Yes you are.” She lets her go and directs her to drop the boy on the table.

“What’s his name? What’s he doing all the way out here?” She prods at him, perhaps a little harder than strictly necessary. 

“I don’t know.” She runs a hand through her tangled hair, catching on a snarl behind her ear. She’s flushed, and all the heat is rising to her skin like liquid fire pumping through her veins. There’s sand in her hair and creased onto her face and her knee hurts when she puts pressure on it - one of those clay monsters got a pretty good grip around her leg, and it _better_ not hurt her performance in the upcoming exams because if she doesn’t become a chunin Kankuro will never let her hear the end of it. “We were a little preoccupied with fighting for our lives.”

“Don’t get snippy with me.” Chiyo snaps, but it’s absent minded. Her fingers come to rest at his face, and her frown deepens. 

“What is it?”

She hums. “His chakra is… abnormal.”

Temari frowns and shifts her weight off her leg. “Is he okay?”

Chiyo prods at the orbital bones with her fingers, checking for inflammation, then for signs of stress in the corners of his eyes, for discoloration or broken blood vessels. 

“As far as I can tell, some cuts and bruises are the worst of it, besides the chakra depletion and overuse of the Sharingan.” She says after a long moment. “Now what about you?”

Temari knows better than to bullshit her about the leg - she’s positive she already saw her limping.

“My knee.”

All it turns out to be is some simple swelling and a dislocation - that Chiyo fixes immediately, and without warning. Temari is proud to say that she doesn’t scream when the bone is popped back into place, but she _does_ bite her tongue so hard she draws blood. 

She works her jaw. “Fuck you.”

Chiyo laughs at her, before making shooing motions with her hands. “I can imagine the guards aren’t looking for you, and I don’t want any of those bastards breaking down my door.” Her eyes slide to the one broken hinge. “Again.”

Temari pointedly _doesn’t_ feel any remorse. She'd kick the door in again, given the opportunity. Unfortunately, she does have a point. Gaara was likely deposited in the courtyard, hopefully out of view of the guards. Her hope is supplemented by the fact that the guards are _terrified_ of Gaara, which isn't an unjustified sentiment by any means, considering one was killed earlier today, and he certainly doesn’t need their protection, so they tend to avoid him anyways. But _her_ absence will be noticed, as will his apparent unconsciousness, which she might have trouble explaining.

She glances back at the boy. “As long as you don’t kill him while I’m gone.”

“No promises.” Chiyo says, wetting a rag. 

Temari rolls her eyes. “I’ll be back in a few hours. There better not be any homicide by the time I get back.”

Chiyo just waves a nonchalant hand. Temari huffs, turns on her heel (trying her best to keep her gait even because she doesn’t need to project her weakness to Chiyo of all people) and slams the door behind her. 

Back in the desert, the air over the black flames twists and distorts, like water swirling down a drain. A pocket dimension opens up as a man in an orange mask with only one eye, draped in dark clothes, steps into the sand. 

Obito, Tobi now, he supposes, makes a considering noise as he glances at the writhing black flames, undeniably Amaterasu. He has no doubt that someone has already felt them, or seen them at least, but he feels inclined to get rid of them anyways. 

If these flames are here, however, one of his hypotheses is confirmed.

The Rinnegan really is such a _fascinating_ thing. 

The Akatsuki will want Deidara’s corpse returned, but there isn’t much left but ashes to bring back. 

Oh, well. 

He glances back towards the city, but finds no reinforcements have yet been deployed to survey the area and the strange, unearthly flames. 

Perhaps, Obito thinks, he should let them burn.

Kakashi isn’t prone to panic. He thinks he ironed that automatic response out of himself years ago, when it stopped being useful. This, however, might be the closest that he gets to it. Naruto is unconscious on the icy cement, has been for a handful of minutes now while Kakashi checked frantically the seal branded onto his stomach, but the last thing he had said bounces around in his mind with terrifying clarity. 

_(“Sasuke.”)_

Where had he heard that name? Kakashi’s thoughts chase themselves in circles so tight that they spiral, and he clamps down firmly on the impulse to let it happen and sink deeper into ingrained paranoia. Instead, he gingerly picks Naruto up and trudges over to the girls, both standing in front of Tazuna. They’re both still shaking minutely. Sakura looks like she’s a beat away from summoning Mokuton again and Ino has a knife drawn, the tip of it quivering in her hand. 

“What-” Ino swallows. “What was that?”

Gently, Kakashi lowers her weapon with his free hand and swallows a sigh. There’s no way to avoid this conversation, then, if they’d both seen it. This might be better in the long run, though. This kind of secret, if kept from his teammates, could prove catastrophic.

“I’ll explain everything when we get back. You two look like you could use some rest.” Ino’s face is heavy with exhaustion and the weary relief that follows an adrenaline crash. “You included.”

Well, he supposes she has a point there. 

“Alright.” He breathes a sigh. Tazuna is pale faced, tension around his eyes and mouth. It’s been a long, stressful week for everyone. He hikes Naruto up a little higher in his arms, pausing once to ensure that Haku and Zabuza are really dead, this time. He looks at them, next to each other, Zabuza extending a hand toward Haku, as if asking him to wait. Kakashi feels heavy with time and grief and the emotional calluses that formed as a result. Old, scabbed over bitterness and regrets being picked raw again. Kakashi made his peace with it a long time ago, though at moments like these, it feels more like tired resignation to something inevitable. 

Ino’s mouth draws thin, an emotion heavier than he can place weighing upon her expression. Kakashi doesn’t remember what it’s like to be young and innocent and feel so deeply. He thinks these gaps, these wounds to his psyche, are so deeply ingrained, so integral to his sense of being, that he could not exist without him. 

He heaves a sigh. “Let’s go.”

They begin their long trek back.

Kakashi watches from the window as Ino and Sakura return to the forest for the second time that day. He’s been confined to bed rest, the chakra drain rendering him near incapacitated. Naruto lies next to him, still blissfully unconscious, curled under thick, heavy blankets. On the nightstand next to him is a clear vase filled with peonies that Ino dug up from the forest and arranged.

“They’re good kids.” Tazuna says, his voice heavy.

Kakashi watches until they disappear into the foliage, likely to add to the graves they hastily threw together, wooden stakes tied with twine, an intricate arrangement of flowers at the foot of each. 

“Yeah.” Kakashi says. “They are.”

Ino kneels in front of the graves, pebbles digging into her shins. When the Yamanaka clan holds funerals, they always involve specific arrangements of flowers. Each family member in attendance brings their own bouquet to add to the grave - to symbolize new life, and convey the nuance of complicated emotions in an artful, visual form. She doesn’t know what customs these two had - if any, isn’t sure if this is inappropriate, but she pays her respects in the only way she knows how.

Her father and mother are in ANBU - they speak of their assignments, their targets, with ease, with little regret - and Ino wonders if this is what it means to make peace with death. It isn’t so hard to fathom now than she thinks it should be. She supposes it’s inevitable, that this is what their purpose manifests as.

Haku claimed that his purpose was fulfilled as Zabuza’s weapon. That he found contentment in having a purpose at all. And yet, he’d refused to kill Naruto when he had the chance. 

Beside her, Sakura nudges her with a knee.

“What are you thinking about?”

“What Haku said.” She replies, after a moment of deliberation. Sakura is quiet, for a moment. “Do you think he was happy?”

Sakura shrugs loosely. “I hope so.”

There’s another moment of silence, and the wind ruffles her hair. 

“C’mon.” Sakura says eventually, stretching out a hand. Ino takes it and pulls herself to her feet, brushing the dust off of her. She spares one last look over her shoulder, at the graves outlined in the setting sun, silhouettes burning mahogany. Sakura takes her hand and pulls her through the trees.

When Naruto wakes, he doesn’t remember a thing that happened. He speaks, his words slurred, about a fox and prison bars as thick around as his waist, and mumbles something about a mirror. When Kakashi prompts him, he shows no sign of recognition. He grumbles about one thing or another, the lack of rest, and turns onto his other side, pulling the cascade of blankets with him. 

Sakura and Ino yell at him for his laziness and Naruto sticks his tongue out and flings a sock at them.

Later, once they’re packed and ready to go, the unease still hasn’t faded. Where had he learned that name? He’d taken special precaution not to mention it around them - was it possible he had heard it earlier and he was just repeating whatever word he could think of in his semi-conscious state? Had he and Sasuke known each other when they were younger? He finds this doubtful - considering Naruto’s status as a Jinchuuriki, his peers were encouraged to stay away from him, and he had been so young. Could he remember that in detail? But if that were the case, why bring him up _now?_

No matter what he says - and he even mentions the name a few times, in passing - Naruto doesn’t seem to react in any way that might suggest familiarity. Eventually, Kakashi is forced to concede the point. As far as he can tell, Naruto doesn’t know anything about Sasuke’s existence or his disappearance. 

He won’t tell Itachi. It won’t resolve anything. He doesn’t want to give him false hope. Naruto doesn’t remember anything, and can’t volunteer any helpful information. 

Still, as they depart from the Land of Waves and begin on the road back to Konoha, the knot of dread doesn’t ease.

When Temari returns to Chiyo’s hut, thoroughly chastised by whatever attendant their father stuck them with this time around (he’s been more and more distant lately, and that’s a feat in and of itself. While he hardly involved himself in their lives before, now she was lucky to encounter him in the halls. Last she’d heard, he holed himself up in his personal chambers and only his trusted advisors had seen him in person for at least three days), she isn’t expecting to find a hawk sitting at the open window ledge, dark eyes following her curiously. She walks down the stone path and opens the heavy door, hanging lopsided on its uneven hinges, and steps out of the hot sun. 

Chiyo is sitting at the table, nursing a cup of tea. The table that she’d left the boy on is conspicuously unoccupied.

_“Chiyo.”_ She hisses. _“Where is he?”_

“Don’t you look at me like that.” She takes a long sip of tea while Temari fumes in the doorway. “The boy woke up in a frenzy. I got him to stay for a basic examination and everything seemed fine. I went to go make myself and my guest some tea, he asked for paper and I obliged, he wrote a note and tied it to that hawk’s leg. Next thing I know, he’s jumping out the window and then he's gone.”

She points at the hawk, ducking its head inside the house.

Temari is still mad, but she’s more interested in whatever he had to say.

“You’re one of his hawks?” 

It chirps, which she’ll take as confirmation, and holds out the leg with the note tied to it obligingly. 

She unrolls the scrap of paper, the handwriting light and rushed, squished together at the end where he must’ve run out of space. 

_The man we fought is named Deidara, he’s part of the Akatsuki. They’re after Jinchuuriki. Make sure to keep a close eye on Gaara, they’ll be after him again. Don’t tell anyone you saw me. Thanks for the help._

It cuts off abruptly. She frowns. “Did he give you a name?”

Chiyo leans back on the counter. “He didn’t. Looks like he doesn’t want anyone to know. You gonna contact the clan?”

She says _the clan_ like it’s something vile. Chiyo retired from her duty as the Kazekage’s personal medic a few years ago, after they’d struck a proposal for a peace treaty with Konoha that would officially end all hostility between them and foster trade routes. She considered them too dependent on Konoha, that they should become isolated and self-sufficient again. The economic benefits, however, far outweighed the paranoia of a woman stuck in war time philosophy, and she resigned on the spot, retreating to the fringes of the city to live out the rest of her life. Temari doesn’t really understand why she hasn’t put her considerable wealth to use. She could have nearly any residence she wanted, and she chose this one. Now, she’s grateful for the isolated nature of her housing. 

“He doesn’t want me to tell anyone I saw him.” She says after a moment. 

“What story did you spin for your father?” She swirls a teabag in her mug, leaves steeping at the bottom of the cup. 

Temari taps her fingers against her thigh. “I didn’t mention that I fought him at all. I said I got nervous because of how Gaara was acting and left him in the desert to ride out his episode and went back into town. As far as they know I didn’t see anything.” 

Chiyo hums. “And they believed you?”

She scowls. “The guards agreed with me because they weren’t watching, so yes.” She crosses her arms defensively over her chest. It’s not like she had any visual injuries they could have cited, and considering the nature of the man’s - Deidara’s - death, there was nothing to tie the fight back to her. Gaara had been deposited safely in the courtyard by a hawk, a summon of indeterminable origin, that had promptly disappeared once its job had been completed. He’s still under the effects of a harmless genjutsu, as far as she knows, being tended to by a shaky, flighty healer. Chiyo had fulfilled that role so effortlessly because Gaara had a certain grudging respect for her, probably born out of fear, because on the most basic level most of his meaningful relationships were centered around fear in some form. 

She turns back to the hawk. “Thank you.”

It chirps again, and with the snap of its wings, it darts back out the window, disappearing around the spires of the Kazekage Residence.

“What are you planning now?” Chiyo asks. 

She makes a noncommittal sound. _Protect Gaara._

The Akatsuki, huh? What do they want with the Jinchuuriki? 

She clenches her jaw. There are too many unknown variables at play here, and she hates being out of the loop. 

“Some research.” She says, and props the door open with her heel. “Thanks for the help.”

“Don’t bother me again.” 

“Sure.” 

They both know it’s probably a lie. 

Nevertheless, Temari swings the door shut and is on her way. 

“This,” Itachi tells him plainly. “Is a _terrible_ idea.”

“I think this is a fantastic idea.” Shisui replies. His fingers are tight around a ledge of crumbling dirt at the edge of the city, his back nearly pressed flush to the wall. Beside him, chakra coiled tight to his body, perches Itachi, staring down into the same crack in the earth. It’s the width of a finger, at most, surrounded by dangling roots and loose dirt. 

“C’mon, it took me _months_ to get this out of Tenzo-” Though technically he’s going by the name Yamato now. “-and you’re not even gonna take advantage of it?”

Wheedling any information out of him was always a struggle - he was trained in interrogation during his time in ROOT, specifically, how to resist it. No amount of begging made so much as a dent in his resolve. It seemed that a part of him was still lost in the tunnels beneath the city, that he still held the barest kind of loyalty to Danzo and his cause. Shisui supposes that’s only to be expected. Anyone recovered from ROOT - anyone Danzo allowed to be reintegrated into society at the behest of the Council - took years to adjust to life outside, and most never fully recovered, mentally. Years of mental and emotional manipulation and conditioning would do that to a person. Eventually, he got him to concede that there was an entry point at the very edge of the city, protected by privacy seals that he took great pleasure in deactivating. 

“ _Shisui._ The second they see the crow they’re going to realize.” Itachi replies tiredly. 

“What’s the worst that can happen?”

Itachi levels him in the flattest gaze he can manage. “What happened the last time you said that?”

“Oh, come on. _One_ minor forest fire. You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?”

“Minor.” Itachi repeats dryly. 

Shisui elects to ignore that, instead poking at the crumbling dirt until the hole is big enough to fit a decently small crow through. “Come on. It’s not like Danzo can do anything to us. That would look _really_ suspicious, and your Dad would probably kill him.”

Itachi breathes a laugh before, with a sigh, summoning one of his crows, small enough to perch on his finger. It glances down at the crow-sized hole. 

“If this doesn’t work, you realize it’s going to be sealed up?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Shisui replies. “Just get on with it.”

The crow hops off his finger, tucking its wings close to its body, and drops into the darkness. 

Sasuke grimaces as he assumes a henge that will mask his more distinct features, his hair a light shade of brown instead of black, eyes a few shades lighter, facial features altered slightly. He can’t risk anyone seeing him around the hawks, lest they make the connection between him and the hawk that had dropped Gaara off in the courtyard. 

He pulls his hood over his head. The clay splatter is mostly covered by the henge.

On his own, he doesn’t have the energy to sustain it. Moya is feeding him chakra at the edge of his consciousness. Sharing chakra in this way carries with it the inherent danger of chakra rejection, not unlike an aggressive autoimmune disease, and if his body rejects the steady influx, he’s at a greater risk of passing out than if he weren’t relying on her chakra at all.

But at least until he gets out of the city, he needs the henge.

He adjusts the shoulder straps of his pack, his arms burning with exhaustion, the unique, muscle-trembling kind of sore that was usually the consequence of fighting an Akatsuki member. All things considered, he made it out of this fight better than he did the last one. He hates the sand, he thinks viciously, and resolves to never, ever come back here. 

He exits Suna’s gates and starts down the major trade route that carries all the way back to Konoha. It's a trade route more in spirit than technicality in some places, where the difference between road and desert is hard to discern. He follows the steady line of merchants, most of which have probably made the journey before, and eventually ends up tailing a caravan for half the way. It bisects the trade post that he had stopped at originally, and now that he has at least a little more time, he might invest in a mask. It had been a mistake letting so many people get a look at his face. Anonymity will probably be his best asset in this case, if he can refrain from overusing the Sharingan. Even so, most wouldn’t recognize the abilities of the Mangekyo. They might notice the dojutsu itself, but the susano or amaterasu might not immediately suggest to someone Uchiha lineage. 

Once he gets to the outpost, he’ll rest, and then Orochimaru will be the next target. Umo has yet to report back, so once he gets his report, he’ll decide on a course of action. Chiha is due back any day now, too. 

He arrives at the outpost long after the sun has gone down, aching muscles carrying him through the near empty street to the nearest inn. He can feel the beginning of a blister forming at the back of his heel, and every time the heavy fabric brushes against his assortment of cuts, he winces. 

He must look as bad as he feels, because the innkeeper takes one look at him and hands him the keys to his room, and Sasuke is so tired that he doesn’t even have it in him to argue as she insists that he only needs to pay half price. He drops the appropriate amount of money on the table (what might be the appropriate amount of money, his vision is going blurry at the corners and focusing takes too much effort) before heading to his room.

He plasters protective seals of every kind he can think of on the door and window before collapsing in the bed. He’s asleep almost immediately.

Deep in the tunnels that define Otogakure, Orochimaru stands in one of his more spacious labs. Opposite him, Danzo stares back, steadfast. 

“Danzo.” Orochimaru purs. “It’s been quite a while.” He stands idly in front of a table cluttered with notes - encoded so only he and Kabuto could decipher them - and half-filled beakers, a microscope perched close to the edge of the table. He leans in closer to the microscope. The slide displays the sample of a cell infected with the latest strain of the curse mark. So far, it’s killed every recipient save for Anko. It’s too bad he can’t study her more closely, what with her affiliation with Konoha. 

If Danzo is perturbed by the lack of acknowledgement, he doesn’t show it. 

Orochimaru glances up. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“The last string of kidnappings.” Danzo starts bluntly. “I’m aware you’re behind them. You’ve been using the entry point that connects these tunnels. You’ve violated the terms of our contact. I’ve come to inform you that I’ll be sealing the tunnels immediately.”

Three people, from entirely different socioeconomic backgrounds, sex, and appearance. Two Shinobi and one civilian. 

“I violated the agreement?” Orochimaru asks lazily. “Strange that you would say that. You know, the other day we had a visitor at one of our labs. An Uchiha.”

Danzo pauses. “You mean-”

“Our deal was violated quite a while ago, I’m afraid.” He says absentmindedly. 

Danzo frowns. “You-”

“I can’t promise anything, concerning that agreement.” He flips through another side. The civilian had reacted surprisingly well to the mark. He has yet to discover whether physical or mental state have a more significant bearing on compatibility. “However… I might be willing to compromise.”

Danzo straightens. “What are your terms?”

Orochimaru’s smile turns sharp in the light. “Tell me everything you know about Sasuke Uchiha.”


	5. Apogee

The Uchiha are in uproar. 

The coals on the stone slab hiss and glow molten orange, like tongues of flickering magma, casting gaunt lines on the livid faces of the elders. Even below their veils, Itachi is perceptive, and has been trained to read the art of body language - Uchiha are expressive with their physical displays in ways they aren’t verbally. The harsh lines of tension around thin lips are enough to tell him that fury is boiling just beneath their stoic facades, and it’s seconds, at most, from reaching its boiling point. The flames snap and roar, growing to concerning size, considering the low roof. The air is hot and loud with debate. 

Shisui kneels next to him, breaking so many unspoken precedents that he wouldn’t know where to begin if he had the chance, a hand locked around his elbow. Despite the belittlement this violation of conduct would usually incur, Fugaku is probably more grateful that he deigned to show up at all, and Itachi finds reassurement in his presence. 

It’s almost too loud to hear anything. There’s arguments in the back. Itachi doesn’t know when they started or what they were over, but he assumes it must have been quite a while ago, if even his mother’s seemingly endless patience was thinning. 

Shisui says something that Itachi doesn’t quite catch over the noise. 

The Elders, it seems, have had enough.

The flames roar, rising to dizzying heights, and the heat is enough to make even him uncomfortable.

 _“Silence.”_ Haruhi snaps. 

The room swiftly quiets. Her eyes, glowing red with the Sharingan beneath the thin white fabric of her veil, narrows in on Shisui. He doesn’t so much as flinch, meeting her gaze, steadfast. She chooses to prioritize the greater issue by turning to address the clan as a whole. Technically, it should be Fugaku giving this speech and not her, but the Elders have been coveting more political power from the Clanhead in recent years, evidently unsatisfied with their unofficial influence. As far as familial piety went, Fugaku was obliged to at least consider what they were saying, but was free to act on his own. 

“An issue of great importance has come to our attention recently.” Her voice, cold and sharp, contrasts wildly with the unadulterated flames at her back. Itachi worries, for a moment, that they will harm the swords on the wall. “In Sunagakure, there was recently an attack by a terrorist group known as the Akatsuki. It is theorized that Jinchuuriki are their goal.”

She turns a shrewd eye over them.

“A week ago, unquenchable black flames were seen in the desert just from the Kazekage Residence.” Her voice is reedy and hoarse. Years of fire breathing and smoke inhalation tends to damage the vocal cords and soft tissues of the throat, and with age, many succumb to respiratory related diseases. “I assume you understand the significance.”

Itachi does. Their most treasured clan secret - the Mangekyo. Few know its functions, some say it differs between the individual. Itachi knows that Fugaku and Shisui both have it, but even then, the finer workings are a mystery to him. He knows when Shisui uses it blood wells up in his tear ducts, he knows that it puts strain on the ocular nerves, leaves them more susceptible to ocular hypertension and infection. He knows that overuse will lead to blindness. He doesn’t understand the strange looping of chakra networks. He could look beside him at Fugaku or Shisui now, and he could trace the strange inter connecting threads of chakra weaving through their bodies, and he knows that he couldn’t unravel that particular mystery if he tried, no matter how much he might want to. Grief is a strange and complex thing; for a power built on the bones of regret and heartache, he supposes it’s only natural that it would be just as complicated. 

For someone to be running around with it, leaving physical reminders, especially in _Suna_ \- well, he can only hope it isn’t interpreted as any sort of act of terrorism from Konoha. 

“Is it being considered a declaration of war by Konoha?” Fugaku asks. “Has Suna responded?”

Haruhi’s mouth tightens. “Suna has not come forward with any comments.”

“This user of the Mangekyo - do we know who they are?”

“We have reached out to the tribes in Iwagakure and Kusagakure and received no confirmation.”

Itachi purses his lips. That’s… strange, for an undocumented Uchiha, one who possesses the Sharingan, nonetheless, to be running around the countryside. The main branch of the clan is rooted firmly in Konoha and has been for the last century. While there are a handful of groups in Stone and Grass that could claim Uchiha lineage, genealogically speaking, they were removed enough that anyone manifesting the Sharingan is exceedingly rare - not to mention the _Mangekyo,_ which requires not only incredibly specific circumstances, but genetic predisposition. All of this implies strong genetic ties to active Sharingan users - most of which are concentrated in Konoha.

It’s not _impossible,_ Itachi reasons, but if none of the aforementioned groups have laid claim to them, then…

Shisui must be able to sense his line of thought, because he nudges him with a knee. Fugaku narrows his eyes at the both of them. 

“The Hokage has agreed to send a unit to Suna to discuss the treaty and as a symbolic gesture of goodwill, requests that at least one Uchiha join them. This gives the clan a chance to investigate the issue further.”

Fugaku sits straighter, if it’s possible. “Has the Hokage already designated who is to be sent?”

“The decision is left to you.” Haruhi says, and her disdain has never been more clear on her tone.

Itachi knows better than to speak out in this situation. Anticipation is humming down his spine, but he forces himself to relax, to let his shoulders roll back, to keep the tension off his face. He slips into Weasel, for a moment, and while that brings the comfort of emotional anonymity, even that isn’t enough to fully calm the staticky pins and needles under his skin.

Logically, he knows it isn’t likely to be Sasuke. He would be eleven, now, almost twelve, and most almost-twelve year olds don’t develop the Mangekyo. Moreover, he has no idea how he would have gotten to _Suna_ and even less idea how he would have fought a member of the Akatsuki. But still - it’s likely that the person in question descends from a long, undiluted Uchiha line. It’s likely that their parents awakened the Sharingan, or even the Mangekyo. 

So just this once, he lets himself hope.

Shisui, who indulges in more physical contact than an average Uchiha generally found appropriate, grabs his arm, his eyes still fixed on Haruhi. She doesn’t like Shisui much, and hadn't an ounce of sympathy after Sasuke’s disappearance. She hadn't advocated for continued searches at all. 

The meeting is adjourned, as it usually is, with the extinguishing of the ceremonial flames, the lingering embers writhing below on a bed of hot coals. Shisui grabs his wrist as they filter up and out of the meeting place, ready to seal it up again beneath the mats on the floor. 

Fugaku is waiting for them when he turns with a sigh, his arms crossed over his chest.

Shisui siddles up before him. 

“No.” Is the answer before he can get so much as a word out. 

“Father-” 

“You’ll compromise the mission. You’re emotionally attached.” The set of his jaw, the narrow of his eyes, are both stern and unrelenting. There’s bent steel between his teeth. “If this mission fails Haruhi will have reason to usurp my position as Clanhead, and then you’ll never find your brother.” 

Itachi acknowledges that second part, but: “I’m ANBU.” He says. He has been for longer than he hasn’t, at this point. “I’m not compromised.”

He raises an eyebrow. “So if you were to catch word of him, you wouldn’t abandon your duties?”

Well, Itachi absolutely _would,_ without a moment of hesitation, but he didn’t need to admit to that, especially not when the chances of it being Sasuke at all were infinitesimally small. 

“Fugaku.” Mikoto places a hand on his shoulder. She has that cloying kind of smile on her face that she always has when she’s about to start an argument she knows she’ll win. “Let him go.”

“Mik-”

“Are you really so scared of Haruhi?” Fugaku scowls at that. “Itachi will do a fine job, and if he happens to find Sasuke, then all the better.”

She started going on missions again, after Sasuke disappeared. Itachi isn’t sure if it’s because she needed the distraction, now that she didn’t have a five year old to tend after, or if it’s for the same reason that he threw himself into his work - because he wanted to find him. For a while, she wouldn’t speak his name, as if doing so would make the situation more real. As if the two of them hadn't spent hours sitting in his room or prowling the dark streets and wondering where he could have disappeared. 

Itachi bows his head, and takes Shisui with him. “Please.”

Fugaku stares for a minute, and then sighs. Mikoto’s hand loosens around his shoulder and her smile becomes a little less pointed. “Fine. Report to the Hokage for mission details, then. I’ll deal with Haruhi.”

“Thank you!” Shisui calls, waving a hand, and Itachi isn’t sure who it’s directed at, but his mother brightens and waves as she marches his father to the gallows in the form of one cranky Elder. 

“I know it isn’t going to be him.” Itachi says. “But I still want to look.”

Shisui bumps their shoulders. “Aw, c’mon. Don’t be like that. I’m sure we’ll find something, at least. Your mom just intimidated your dad into letting us go, think about that instead.” He snickers. Itachi smiles. 

“Thanks.”

Shisui grins, one half of his mouth lifting, and Itachi has a moment to think _oh no,_ before Shisui attacks his hair and messes it up. 

“You’d think you would’ve learned to avoid that.” Shisui remarks.

“You’d think.” Itachi agrees dryly, trying in vain to fix his hair before they get to the Hokage. Showing up looking like he just rolled out of bed probably wouldn’t inspire confidence in their abilities - but, well, if Shisui hadn't been kicked of ANBU yet for excessive property damage, then his hair certainly wouldn’t be the breaking point. 

“C’mon, let’s not keep the old man waiting.” 

Itachi rolls his eyes and follows after him. 

Why Orochimaru needs an underground complex of tunnels that leads almost all the way to Amegakure, Sasuke doesn’t know, and has no desire to know. If he really wanted to theorize, he might guess former involvement with Akatsuki, or a connection to the main trade hubs there. As far as borders are concerned, he’s stranded somewhere between Grass and Stone, approaching Amegakure from the East. He has to be careful not to go past, because he’s sure he’ll activate a seal of some sort, thereby alerting the entirety of the Akatsuki to his presence, if they aren’t tracking him already. The only upside to waking up in the middle of fucking nowhere is that no one else knew where you were, either. Anonymity did have its perks.

The passport he’d swiped off of some unsuspecting citizen had been stamped by some overworked Chunin he’d found working surveillance for a nearby village, so he was free to move in more populated areas of Kusagakure if he so chose, but he wanted to stay away from any sensors if he could help it. His chakra signature is… unique enough that it might attract some unwanted attention, namely the Akatsuki kind, but he also doesn’t want any government getting their hands on him and throwing him back at Konoha. He’s fairly sure he’s not a missing nin in this world, but better safe than sorry.

He’s currently crouched in the narrow stretch of trees that borders Stone and Grass, pathetic and skeletal. There’s some kind of disease getting the ones around the fringes, a farmer told him in passing, while tending to his herd. A pathogen that left big, bulging tumors of wood on the thin, spindly trunks. The soil here is unsuitable for big trees, better for cash crops like rice and wheat. This part is close enough to Stone that trace minerals can be found in the dirt, and up until a few years ago was a booming trade city, but after overfarming had ruined the topsoil, had left nothing behind but big, rolling fields of tall grass. 

Aya seems to enjoy it, at least. It’s so humid that it’s like trying to breathe through hot steam, the heat is stifling in ways he didn’t know were possible, and when he sees Orochimaru again he’s going to kill him slowly. 

He almost tears apart the map in his hands. He carefully smooths it out and draws a big red ‘X’ through another hideout. The things he’d been storing in there were particularly horrifying and will probably follow him to sleep for the next few weeks. He’s no stranger to body horror - he has a long history with the curse mark and whatever physiological modifications Orochimaru had felt necessary. Really, the only thing he misses about that is that his old body had been immune to most types of poison. He could probably eat nightshade and survive. 

_“You look angry.”_ Aya says, landing on a haphazardly thin branch above his head. 

He still hasn’t found Orochimaru. He supposes that isn’t surprising, considering the sheer complexity of these tunnels and how far they stretch. Most of them are to the North of Konoha, but they extend all over the country. Orochimaru is everyone’s problem.

“Maybe,” He pushes his bangs back, shoving them behind his ears, “If there weren’t so many goddamn mosquitoes this wouldn’t be so bad.” 

Aya flutters over his head and he has to duck to avoid a wayward wing. He draws another line between hideouts. Umo reported that he’d been seen last near Stone, coming back from Wind. It was hard to keep track of him because of the snakes, and when underground, there was no way for him to follow. Aya would’ve been useful, but he’s reluctant to leave himself virtually unprotected, and even more so to let Aya venture into Oto on her own. She’s exceptional at sensing chakra, but had the common sense of a rock. 

He leans back on his haunches, sore muscles burning with exertion. He’d been moving since late last night, trying to escape the complex system of seals Iwagakure had around its borders - always the paranoid type, it seemed. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a passport for Stone, and they weren’t too keen on outsiders - especially undocumented ones.

 _“You’re straining again.”_ Sukai calls from her perch, talons wrapped around peeling bark. If possible, she seems even more disgusted by the climate than he is. The back of his shirt and the mesh underneath stick uncomfortably to his back, aggravating the little wounds that have just scabbed over. She’s made for the cooler temperatures. This stretch of field is more akin to what she would usually be hunting in, but more of Kusagakure is humid and wooded. 

“I’m fine.” He most definitely is not. The chakra burn beneath his fingers pulses in tandem with his heart. That, coupled with the wounds that haven’t quite yet healed from the Deidara fight and the leftover chakra exhaustion, not to mention the lack of sufficient sleep, is making for a very uncomfortable time. He squints down at the map, sliding out of focus. Orochimaru is probably moving faster than him, back towards Sound. He might be able to intercept him on the Taipan Pass, if he can get there without being noticed. 

_“I can see your chakra networks, don’t lie.”_

He doesn’t dignify that with an answer.

“Aya, where’s Chiha? Is she still approaching?”

 _“Yep!”_ Aya chirps. _“She’s not far.”_

Aya has a very loose concept of far, so Sasuke isn’t sure how to estimate the distance. He presses his heels to his eyes. “Sukai, you can go.”

With a huff, she disappears in a burst of smoke and he leans back against a tree. Half his pant leg is drenched in mud from where he misjudged his distance - still with the short legs - and fell into the muddy creek instead of reaching all the way over it. He’s yet to find another, less muddy, creek to wash it off in. 

_“She’s at the edge of the forest!”_

Sasuke squints at her dubiously. “You didn’t mention she was _that_ close.”

A few minutes later, Chiha bursts through the foliage, all but hurling herself over the branches and practically into his lap. He stares while she flicks her wings, blinking big black eyes.

“Chiha.” He runs his hand over her head and she preens. She’s been gone for a better part of a month, now. 

_“I am very glad to be back.”_ She says. _“It rains very often in Amegakure. It was a terrible experience.”_

It probably rains a lot here, too, but he doesn’t think any place in the world rains as much as Ame. He continues silently stroking the feathers behind her head. “What did you learn?”

 _“There is a strange man - one with a spiral mask and one eye. I could not keep surveillance of him. He distorts spacetime, much like you and I.”_

Sasuke stiffens. Obito. “... did he… harm you in any way? Or attempt to?”

She tilts her head slightly. _“Nothing of the sort. He… spoke to me frequently.”_

“And said what?”

 _“Many things, most pointless, or so I assume.”_ She shifts uncertainly. _“He called me ‘birdie’ many times. Does this name have significance in your culture?”_

Sasuke… isn’t going to smile. “... no. You’re fine.”

_“A woman - with wings much like mine, made of paper. She spoke to a… a strange creature.”_

“Not a human?”

Chiya shifts. Either Zetsu, Kisame, or Sasori, then.

_“His back was strange - hunched, like the desert horses.”_

“Camels?”

 _“Yes, those!”_ She flaps her wings happily. _“He spoke in a very low voice and I was concerned that he might try to eat me.”_

“Nothing eats hawks.” 

_“You did not see it!”_ She cries. _“It was a terrible creature - if it had seen me, I am sure it would have done so! His tail was very long, too! Like the black desert bugs!”_

“Scorpions.” It’s definitely Sasori that she’s talking about. He isn’t as big of an issue.

“Did you see anyone… that looks like an anthropomorphized plant.”

He isn’t sure how else one is supposed to describe what Zetsu looks like. 

_“What does ‘anthropomorphized’ mean?”_ He doubts that there’s any equivalent for that word in her language. 

“A human that looks like a plant.” He clarifies.

 _“Oh, yes! He is a strange creature, too! He melts into the ground and talks frequently to the spiral-man. I do not like him. His chakra is…”_ She shudders. _“Tainted.”_

“And…” He pauses. “The leader. With eyes like this.”

He lets the henge fade momentarily, revealing the stark purple eye of the Rinnegan. 

_“I did not see the one with the blessed eyes, but I have learned much about him. He does not leave the cave often, but he speaks to the flying woman. She often relays his word to the others.”_

He takes a moment to digest this. “The woman is named Konan, the plant Zetsu, and the puppet Sasori. The leader is called Pein. There’s a man who should look like…. a shark, with a large sword, a man with a scythe, and a man with green and red eyes.”

 _“I’ve seen all of them. The scythe-man praises an unknown creature. I do not dare speak its name.”_

Sasuke smooths her agitated feathers down. “Was there… anyone else?” 

_“There was only them.”_

That means… that means Itachi isn’t part of the Akatsuki, that confirms it, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He isn’t sure if it’s relief that curls in his gut, or some numb kind of existential horror that climbs the waves of his ribs and renders him overcome, like barbs of wire in his throat when he tries to swallow. So Itachi isn’t part of the Akatsuki, so Itachi is safe in Konoha. 

So Sasuke has… changed things. 

_“Are you alright?”_

He glances down to see that Chiya had hopped up directly on top of his chest at some point. Her shiny black eyes are inches away. “Fine.” He says, and sits up straight, forcing her to jump back off. He pulls another hand through his hair - too long, now. He’s taken to tying it back. Cutting hair with kunai instead of scissors hurts more than one would expect. “What of their plans?” 

_“The vessels - the containers of the Great Old Ones.”_

Sasuke pauses. “The Jinchuuriki, you mean?”

_“Yes. Those. The ones that harbor the ancient spirits. They covet them. They spoke to a man with snakes.”_

What? “Orochimaru?” 

_“Yes! They have many boundaries of seals, so I could not hear, and the snake was very large and angry, so I did not go closer. There were two meetings while I was watching. They were amassing their members, I am to assume. They do not like the Snake, they find his methods unseemly. But he is greatly useful! The flying-woman said so. They spoke not with their physical bodies. It was difficult to tell, but it was some sort of projection. I could not hear what they said the first time, but they all dispersed afterwards. The divine one claimed that his work was preliminary. The scorpion-tail strongly dislikes the others, especially the Snake. At the second meeting, it was a few days ago - news of the death already spread."_

Sasuke isn't surprised that word of Deidara's death spread. Obviously, Temari hadn't revealed his identity or there'd be a manhunt after him, but the black flames of Amaterasu were hard to miss, and everyone within a mile radius could feel the spike in Deidara's monstrous chakra. "Were they angry?"

Chiha shudders. _"I think the heretic found it amusing, actually."_

Yes, that seemed... in line with his personality. 

_"The leader spoke of solidifying their contract with Amegakure, and then they could move more quickly. He indicated he had intentions of scouting Kumogakure soon. Later, I overheard the Sannin speaking to his snakes. I do not understand the serpent’s tongue, but I recognize the word Kumogakure. The village… hidden in the clouds.”_

All the way in fucking _lightning_ territory? 

Sasuke would really sooner die than set out all the way up there, especially considering how close that is to Konoha (especially if he wants to get there in a timely manner, that demands that he take shortcuts through Otogakure).

Well, maybe there he’ll find his chance to kill Orochimaru.

“Are you sure?”

 _“I am certain.”_

Well, it’s not like he can take that chance. He can’t remember what beast they have there - the two tails? He forgets the name of the Jinchuuriki. 

_“You should rest.”_ Chiha advises. _“It will do you no good to exhaust your chakra pathways.”_

He can do permanent damage, he knows. Kakashi had beat that into them by the time they entered the Chunin exams. He supposes Kakashi would know, what with that eye of his. 

_“Your eye - how does it fare?”_

He brings the back of his hand up to the concealed Rinnegan. “Still sucking up all my chakra like a fucking black hole.” He spits. He thinks he’s getting better at regulating it, though. “I need to plot our trail.”

It’s better to travel by civilian routes - even if they are nothing but crude dirt, trampled under the hooves of cattle and mules and wagon wheels. They’re suffused with illness and no small amount of bugs - usually, animals are attracted to chakra. Too much exposure, of course, will kill smaller, peskier things, but many are drawn to the warm allure of abundant chakra. He knows there must be something off about how his chakra feels, because game seems to be avoiding him, as do most bugs. All manner of animals are repulsed by Jinchuuriki - downright terrified of them. It also makes him less likely to be spotted by patrolling Chunin, if he avoids the more populated trails.

“Thank you, Chiha.”

She tugs playfully at his sleeve, brushing her head against his hand, before slipping back into the spirit world. He leans his head back against the tree, peeking through the spotty canopy to see dark cloud coverage. It’s going to rain soon. He counts to five before shoving himself to his feet. He can stop by the town a little to the West. 

If they’re already on the way, then he has to get there before them. He doesn’t have time to waste.

He runs a hand over his face. “C’mon, Aya.”

She squints up at the clouds dubiously.

He waits expectantly before she alights on his outstretched arm. He loosens the straps around his sore shoulders and begins to walk again. 

Since the Land of Waves mission, Naruto has exactly three strange dreams, like the color red, like a song he recognizes, until the score hits an accidental and sends him spiralling into the vague territory of speculation once again. Earlier that morning, he woke up with the tail vowel of _Sasuke_ on his tongue. He has no idea who that is, but it leaves him feeling strange and off kilter, even hours later, waiting for Kakashi on the bridge.

Naruto has also decided that his teammates are also not the worst. Ino taught him how to make dandelion crowns so he supposes she’s actually okay, and Sakura is loud and violent but she doesn’t seem angry at him for _existing_ like so many other villagers, so he’s willing to give her a chance. He’s still better than them, though. 

Kakashi, without warning, jumps straight down from the tree by his side and while they should really be used to this by now, his heart still spikes and Sakura still activates Mokuton.

“Relax, relax.” He holds his hands up diplomatically while Ino glares daggers at him. 

“Last week we fought an _S-class missing nin!”_

Kakashi pauses, as if to consider. “Well, then you should’ve noticed me, and then you wouldn’t have been surprised.” The three of them glare, and he clasps his hands together. “So! Who here knows about the Chunin exams?”

“I do!” Ino and Sakura yell at the same time. Naruto glances between them.

They have Chunin exams?

Sakura shoves herself forward, probably to demonstrate her encyclopedic knowledge, but Ino starts first, grabbing at her shoulders.

“It’s a test you take to get promoted from Genin to Chunin!” Ino beams and Sakura sulks. “Everyone who’s already taken it isn’t allowed to talk about it because it’s supposed to be a secret, but my brother says that there are three stages.” She pauses. “But we just graduated from the Academy like, a month ago. Is that allowed?”

“You meet all the requirements.” Kakashi points out. 

“We survived an S-class mission.” Sakura interjects. “So we’re automatically qualified.”

“Yeah, but _Kakashi-sensei_ is the one that killed Zabuza!”

“It doesn’t _matter-”_

“Alright, ducklings, that’s enough fighting.” Kakashi calls. Both girls pout. “Technically both of you are right. It’s unorthodox for first year Genin to take the exams, but you… have extenuating circumstances. I don’t expect the three of you to pass.”

Naruto bristles. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“What I mean is that there’s been very few records of first year Genin being promoted during times of peace, and the higher ups are likely to be scouting more experienced participants. Namely, your seniors. I encourage you to take it because our village is hosting it this year, so it’s a good opportunity to get familiar with the exams themselves without having to go to another village, and so next year, scouts will remember you for your performance. The three of you will turn heads. Understand?”

“Well I’ll _definitely_ pass!” Naruto huffs.

“Sure you will.” Ino deadpans. “Are we really hosting it this year? Does that mean other villages are gonna be coming?”

“Correct. Suna should be arriving in about a week - well, if all goes well they will, anyways.” He rubs the back of his neck. Sakura plants her hands on her hips. 

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

Kakashi waves her off, nonchalant. “We’re also inviting Kusagakure and Tanigakure, but Suna is the only one to have formally accepted the invitation to house the Kazekage. Otogakure will be attending, too.”

“What?” Ino exclaims. “Oto?”

Kakashi’s eyebrows raise. “You know of them?”

Ino narrows her eyes, petulant. “My dad talks about them a lot. He doesn’t like them. He thinks they’re suspicious.” There’s thinly hidden vitriol in her words, the inherited kind, that children spout without realizing its significance. “He says they don’t have a leader and that they aren’t even a village.”

“Well,” Kakashi starts mildly, uncertainly, like he isn’t sure how exactly to approach that subject. “I’m not sure that’s something to begrudge a whole group of people over…” 

“Is it true that they don’t have a Kage?”

“Their system works differently than ours. Otogakure has existed longer than we’ve acknowledged it to, of course. Ah, think about it like this. Otogakure has no natural barriers, right? No walls like Konoha, or deserts like Suna, so it’s been occupied by many different clans and groups of people. Oto is a bit of a… cultural melting bowl. They’re only competing because Konoha won’t recognize their Shinobi as a formal body until they prove at least Chunin-level ability.”

“So they don’t have Genin and Chunin?” Sakura perches forward on her toes, soaking up the information. 

“Their ranking system isn’t standardized, so the other hidden villages want to judge the strength of their Shinobi.”

Ino grimaces. “When you put it like that it sounds underhanded.”

“That’s the reality of most of these exchanges.” Kakashi shrugs. “Anything concerning the villages usually has political motives.”

Naruto stares. “That’s… pretty terrible, Kakashi-sensei.”

Kakashi looks like he’s considering that. “Maybe.” He acquiesces. “I have forms for the three of you, if you want them. I suggest reading all the terms and conditions, just so you know what you’re getting into.”

Sakura squints at the scroll he handed out, looking a little green around the gills. “Is it… that bad?”

“It’s just to avoid lawsuits.”

Sakura looks like that answered her question and the answer was decidedly not reassuring.

“Well,” Naruto snatches the scroll out of his hand. “I’m gonna become a Chunin. The two of you better not back out, you hear me?” Ino scoffs and Sakura rolls her eyes. 

Naruto squints at the unnecessarily small text for a minute before giving up on the endeavor entirely in favor of questioning Kakashi. 

The man lifts an eyebrow. “For someone who says he wants to become a Chunin so badly, you aren’t doing much to confirm it.”

“Who’s Sasuke?”

Kakashi freezes.

Naruto puts his hands behind his head, scuffing his foot against the wood of the bridge. “You said the name earlier and I… I feel like I know it? It sounds familiar. I, uh. I was dreaming about it, maybe. I don’t know. But I remembered the name last night, and I don’t know who that is.”

Kakashi, still stiff, carrying his tension in the straight line of his back and shoulders, in the tightening of his jaw, says, “I don’t suppose you have any idea who Itachi Uchiha is?”

“Never heard of him.”

“Well he’s a member of ANBU, and he’s Sasuke’s older brother. Sasuke… would be your age. He went missing almost seven years ago.”

“Oh.” Naruto deflates. He isn’t really disappointed, per say, but he was expecting something more dramatic, maybe. It’s just some kid he never met. “I don’t know him, then.”

“...yeah.” Kakashi says, and there’s something about his tone of voice that has Naruto scowling.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing! You should go back to your scroll, the girls are getting ahead of you!”

Naruto takes the bait and rushes back to his form, grumbling about stupid teachers under his breath as he reads. Kakashi doesn’t stop watching him for the rest of the day.

The farmers in the lower grasslands of Kusagakure typically barter, instead of paying with standardized coins. After Earth and Stone had started mining more precious metal, inflation increased tenfold and instantaneously rendered coins nearly worthless. Konoha coin, however, has more weight. As the most powerful economic presence, its coin also becomes the most valuable. A few coins and he’s bought a coat thick with gray fur that probably hails from the Land of Wolves - it actually resembles some Inuzuka clothing. 

If there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s that Kumo is fucking _cold_ and he’s going to need something heavier if he plans to travel into the mountains. He’s fairly sure that the two-tails Jinchuuriki roams somewhere in that area, and he has no idea how far he’ll have to travel if he wants to find her. Luckily, Jinchuuriki chakra signatures are very distinct and easy for Aya to spot, so locating her shouldn’t be too much of a struggle. 

He stops in a town that sits on four converging trade routes. Two of them minor, two more prominent. The East one should take him through Waterfall and Iron. The route falls just shy of Earth’s borders, so he doesn’t have to worry about tripping any seals there. From that point, he can make his way through Sound by memory, and up through Frost and into Lightning. 

God, this is going to be _quite_ the fucking journey. 

The town is teeming with activity. Oxen pull wagons stacked with feed and grain. Three kids sit on the open back of the wagon, kicking their legs as they go. Half the paths are cobblestone and the other are dirt, made uneven by hooves and boots and wheels.

Sasuke already has a coat, but these shoes are far from appropriate to be wearing in the mountains, and these clothes, made to accommodate the humid weather of Konoha, aren’t insulated. 

As the shopkeeper rummages through her inventory, remarking on how strange it was to see a traveler headed North, he shifts his weight between his legs. Having a Summon out here would be tantamount to proclaiming Shinobi status, something he’s trying to avoid, but in this body, he’s not very intimidating, and he thinks he would benefit from Sukai’s harsh glare from his shoulder.

She throws the clothes over the counter and grins cheerfully as he hands her the money.

“What’s got you goin’ North for? You got family up there?” She looks him up and down. He’s aware of how very Uchiha he looks. “A girlfriend, then?”

Sasuke twitches. “... family.” He settles on eventually.

She raises an eyebrow.

“...estranged.”

She seems to accept this. “Just be careful. There’s a band of kekkei genkai thieves near that Oto place.” She shakes her head. “Not much regulation up there, huh? Rumors are they’ve got kekkei genkai trafficking going on.”

She doesn’t know how right she is. Also, she’d definitely just touched on his fear of being recognized as an Uchiha and the danger that always existed of getting your eyes ripped out of your head for the Sharingan. 

“Don’t worry, the folks around here don’t have nothin’ against your clan.”

“...thanks.” He says awkwardly, collecting his things. 

“Oh, and be careful! A few folks have come through here with some tales about some monster that lives in the mountains.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Now I’m not the superstitious type, but those guys came back with chunks of ‘em missing. Talking about some blue beast.”

Sasuke narrows his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

“Good luck, kid!”

He turns out the door and is gone.

It’s been a long time since Itachi has left Konoha for anything other than ANBU missions. He kind of misses his mask, now. Their team of six is making decent headway alongside the main river which runs almost directly through Suna. 

“We’ll be meeting an escort at the gates. No unauthorized movement around the city.”

Itachi bows his head and Shisui chirps a bright, “Yes sir!” That seems to further sour his expression. 

“You’re aggravating him.”

“I wanna see how many wrinkles I can give him.”

Itachi rolls his eyes. “We’re representing the Uchiha.”

“Haruhi doesn’t give a rat’s ass if we find Sasuke or not.”

Itachi stiffens slightly, but only if you know where to look for it. Shisui has known Itachi for over a decade, he knows the signs. “We’re representing Konoha. The last thing we need is another war.”

Shisui rolls his eyes. “You and I both know this is a formality. War isn’t gonna break out anytime soon. Suna definitely isn’t in any position to declare war.”

The escort shows them inside, once they’re at the massive, looming stone gates. The earth is jagged and cracked, towering in long spirals of sepia. In the distance, carved into a massive red sandstone mountain, is a collection of buildings - one of the more famous places in the desert. Ogee arches top the roofs of temples and upper class housing. The Kazekage residence is staggering in its beauty, complete with minaret towers and tall open windows - probably to provide passive ventilation. Mashrabiya screens protect the openings in the windows. 

“You aren’t permitted inside the Kazekage residence.” The escort tells them. “We’ll be meeting in a neutral building.”

They end up nestled in the heart of the city, in a room furnished primarily by textiles. Thick, colorfully patterned carpets cover the floors and walls. The diplomat arrives five minutes later, exhaustion carved into his skin.

“My apologies.” He starts wearily. “I’m afraid the discussions can’t begin until my wards arrive.”

The children of the Kazekage are set to join this meeting - Itachi isn’t sure if it’s meant to be training of some sort or if they’re the alternative to speaking to the Kazekage directly.

“If I may ask, is there another matter they need to attend to?”

The diplomat looks pained. “You… are aware of the status of the Kazekage’s youngest son?”

The Jinchuuriki.

Shisui looks the slightest bit alarmed. He remembers the Kyubei destroying Konoha viscerally. “Is there an incident?”

“It’s nothing to be concerned about, but he is a matter that needs to be attended to.”

“If discussion can’t begin until they arrive, shouldn’t you send someone to assist?”

Everyone in the room freezes. Itachi glances to Shisui, a warning.

“There should be no reason for concern, right?” Shisui’s… bright disposition can be misleading, Itachi thinks with a grimace, because for all that people claim he’s devious and shrewd, he had to learn it from _somewhere._ “These are times of peace, and we’re here to foster good will. In a week’s time your Shinobi will be in Konoha for the Chunin exams, and Itachi is great at sensing. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The diplomat chews his bottom lip. “Well…”

“If we take too long, you can always send guards to find us.” He points out.

He sighs. “Make it quick. I warn you - if the boy has worked himself into one of his moods, we can’t guarantee your safety.”

“I helped during the Kyubei attack.” Shisui says, his smile blinding. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. Thank you for your hospitality!”

Before Itachi has the chance to so much as hiss _what do you think you’re doing,_ Shisui has an unbreakable grip on his wrist, and is dragging him out the door.

 _“Shisui.”_ Itachi sounds pained. “What was _that?”_

“I’m getting us answers.” Shisui grins. “You have no idea how tedious working internationally is. We're here as a symbolic gesture - they don't want to help us figure out who the Uchiha is, they want us out of their village. They won’t do anything to us while we’re here, though. Now get to searching. Don’t prove me wrong, ‘Tachi.”

Itachi runs a tired hand through his hair. Shisui was going to be the death of him.

If this mission (and Shisui) doesn’t kill him, Father definitely will.

“For the record.” Itachi says dryly. “This is your fault.” 

The two of them dive into the heart of the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Uchiha clan: *exists  
> Sasuke: I'm gonna pretend I didn't see that
> 
> Itachi is finally making some progress! Slightly illegal progress, but still progress! Shisui has pretty extensive history in ANBU and he was active during wartime so I don't think it's out of the question that he was working with foreign affairs at some point. More of Sasuke's tedious journey to the North next time! 
> 
> As for the villages, Kusagakure is very small, so I can see it definitely being taken advantage of by Iwa and Konoha. Suna is some unholy bastardization of Middle Eastern culture with some Egyptian culture/architecture thrown in there. Also from what I can see Suna isn't based around a water source??? It's just a big ass desert??? So I just put one in there. 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	6. Syzygy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some things to note: Kankuro is older (around 16) and he's already a Chunin.

Sasuke crouches in the wet underbrush, tense. Rain hums a symphony on the plants and trees, a downpour. He’s soaked to the bone and the only thing keeping him from hypothermia is a valiant attempt at chakra regulation. Not that he has much _to_ regulate at the moment, but it’s besides the point. He’s lucky he stored away the fur jacket before the rain started. He can only imagine how difficult it would be to maneuver in forty pounds of wet, heavy fabric.

Apparently, he veered too far off course into earth territory, and now border patrol is on him. They’re only Chunin, but he’d like to go without confronting anyone else. He doesn’t need to be perceived as a threat, because if he is, he’ll be dealt with accordingly.

Aya, crouched under his cloak, has the gall to snicker at him.

_“You look like a drowned cat!”_

He furiously shoves dripping wet hair out of his face so that he can glare at her properly. “Be quiet. You’ll get us caught.”

 _“They’re far enough away. They’ve regrouped now, near the seal you set off.”_

He doesn’t want to risk moving just yet. He might attract their attention, clomping through the wet, muddy undergrowth and alerting every living being in a ten mile radius of his location. The only reason he’s in this mess is because he’d taken a smaller Shinobi trail through the forest belt, which separates the podzolic soil of Southern earth territory from the clay chernozem of Northern Kusagakure’s forest-steppes. He’d only realized his mistake after crossing the narrowest part of the river he’d been following, overflowing with rain, and he’d spotted seals carved into a broad trunk. 

_“They’re moving back over the border now.”_

He sighs and stretches out his cramped legs, stepping out from under a wide, wet fern. Aya squeaks as the rain hits her. She won’t be able to fly, and if he can be careful about borders from here on out, he shouldn’t need her for surveillance. 

“You can go.” He says shortly. She sighs in relief and bursts into a cloud of smoke and dispeled chakra. He shoves his hair back behind his ears and tries not to shiver too much. He’s absolutely drenched, but he needs to make it to the edge of the forest-belt by evening, at which point he can cross over to Takigakure and then through Iron. Once he gets past the forest, the deciduous trees will open into the meadow-steppes, which will eventually lead to foothills in the mountains surrounding Takigakure. 

Eventually, the rain begins to lessen, or he gets far away enough from Ame that he’s out of the cloud coverage, and it’s safe to summon Aya again. She comments on the strange nature of the birds and lifeforms as she goes, apparently determined to draw even more attention to themselves. 

He memorized his course with his Sharingan. This path is usually less populated because it doesn’t meander through the higher-altitude meadows and prominent trade outposts, so he doesn’t have to worry about being seen. The bright orange trail markers also serve as a reminder not to stray into more enemy territory. 

Aya rejoins him at some point, after the rain stops, determined to make a nuisance of herself. 

_“That one looks like me!”_

Sasuke can say with absolute certainty that it _doesn’t._ He’s never seen that species of bird before, but other than being an avian species, the dark-feathered, red-crested bird perched in the branches shares nothing in common with Aya aside from the same genus. 

“Aren’t you supposed to have good eyesight?” 

She shrieks, indignant. 

Another few hours of arduous hiking in, and they’re almost to the edge of the belt. 

_“Are we gonna see the waterfalls?”_

“We’re not here to sightsee.”

She makes a thoughtful trilling sound. “You’re no fun.” She’s immediately distracted by a mole rat in the undergrowth. 

Sasuke pays her no mind as he leaps to the next tree - dogwood. It marks the change between the forest-belt and the steppe-belt. They’ll be passing through a village soon, and in Iron he hopes to find a sword more conducive to Chidori. While this one is fine for kenjutsu alone, the electricity has already damaged the polished steel, and he doesn’t want to test his luck. “Aya, keep up. Once we get to the village, you can go.”

She hums in acknowledgement, still preoccupied with the mole rat. 

He bursts through the treeline, landing on perennial grass that sways around his calves. Lower, the floodplains. He runs a hand through his unruly hair - he can only imagine how he must look, almost entirely drenched, snagged by bramble. The only upside to the rain is that it’s washed the mud off his leg. 

_“Can I stay here?”_ She eyes the foxtail eagerly. _“Sukai’s been teaching me how to hunt!”_

Judging by her results with the mole rat, her attempts have been in vain.

“Sure. If you sense anyone, come get me.”

_“I will!”_

He hops onto a ledge of rock sticking out of the grass and looks down the hill to the village below, before setting off again.

Itachi finds the Jinchuuriki almost immediately - they have a very specific chakra signature, easy to pinpoint. The chakra seems to pulse and flare up arbitrarily, and there’s something decidedly… _dark_ about it. It whispers down Itachi’s spine. The pressure reminds him of when the Kyubei attacked - it’s presence thick and heavy in the air. 

“This way.” He tugs Shisui down the interconnected streets, kicking up dust as they go. It’s hardly noon and it’s already entirely too warm. Suna Shinobi are known for their incredible chakra control - to function in such extreme weather, temperature regulation is a must. 

The source of the power is concentrated near the Kazekage residence. A girl with sandy hair tied into four buns, draped in colorful fabrics lined with geometric patterns, gold embroidery catching the sun’s glare across the edges, stands at the gates. She has one hand braced on the wall of clay separating the courtyard from the street, turning to fix him in a wide-eyed stare. In her other hand is clutched a package wrapped in dark cloth - textile - with patterns not unlike the ones on her clothes. Temari, the daughter of the Kazekage. 

“You’re the Konoha representatives.” She says, eyeing their headbands. From just behind her, a boy draped in dark fabric - strange, for the heat - with purple marks on his face approaches, regarding them strangely. Kankuro. “Uchiha?” He raises an eyebrow. He looks right past Itachi to Shisui, narrowing his eyes. “Who’re you?”

“Shisui Uchiha.” He says cheerfully. “I was on the Hokage’s personal ANBU team during peace negotiations.”

He seems to accept this answer. Temari glances between them and Kankuro. “Were you two sent to come get us?” Her tone is dryer than the desert. “We’ll need more time. My brother is… having an episode, you’ll have to excuse him.”

“He done killing that guard, or-”

Temari jabs him in the ribs with an elbow, successfully shutting him up. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“It’s no problem.” Shisui folds his hands behind his head. “We’re not really here for them.”

The changes in her facial expression are slight, but Itachi catches them anyway. “Then what _are_ you here for?”

Kankuro slides back a step, “I’ll let you handle this.”, before disappearing back into the courtyard. 

“Please excuse his behavior, he’s… not diplomat material.” She rolls her eyes. “He paints his face like that to make our father mad - it’s part of our grandmother’s old religion and he does it to piss him off. He would get the tattoos, but we don’t know how he’d react. He hoped it would get him taken off the negotiations, and he’ll do anything to get out of it. Now, what do you want?”

Itachi blinks. Shisui doesn’t look phased in the slightest. “We’re looking for a lost Uchiha. Apparently they killed an Akatsuki member - or played a part in it, at least. They would’ve had the Sharingan - a Sharingan with an unusual pattern. Did you happen to see anyone like that?”

Temari’s expression flattens suddenly, carefully uprooting anything telling. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see anyone. I was inside the city when the attack happened.”

Shisui hums thoughtfully. “Did anyone see them?”

Before Temari has the chance to go for another deflection, Kankuro waltzes back up to the gate, Gaara in tow. He’s… shorter than Itachi would’ve assumed, what with that monstrous chakra. There’s also a very noticeable spot of blood at the edge of his robes near his feet, as red as his hair. Temari masks it under a henge before anyone can comment on it.

Gaara stares at them with pale, unblinking eyes. Itachi feels his stomach drop as the killing intent fills the air. Shisui rests an elbow on his shoulder. 

“Hi, Gaara.” Shisui says, effectively breaking the tense atmosphere. Temari and Kankuro gawk and Gaara blinks in surprise. Clearly, the killing intent leaking off of him was meant to intimidate. “I’m Shisui and this is Itachi, it’s nice to meet you.”

Gaara… looks a little lost. 

“You have the same eyes.” He says eventually. 

“Hm? Do you mean the Uchiha that helped you?”

His expression darkens. “Yes.”

“We’re looking for them. Did you see them?”

Temari stiffens, and turns to her brother, her shoulders rising up.

“A boy. My age.”

“Your age?” Itachi blinks. Shisui’s fingers tighten at his collarbone. 

Gaara clenches his jaw, his fingers pulling into white-knuckled fists, chakra undulating again. 

_“Gaara.”_ Temari hisses. The street has already cleared, going quiet. 

“He rode a hawk.”

“A hawk?” Shisui startles. He and Itachi glance at each other. “You’re sure?”

It seems he’s done offering useful information, though, his eyes darkening at the corners. 

“Gaara.” Temari says carefully. “Kankuro is going to take you out to the desert, okay? I have to go with the representatives.”

His eyes are hazy, but he turns obediently back into the courtyard, Kankuro beside him. She tightens her hair, and exhales shakily. 

“Let’s not keep them waiting any more.” Temari says, beginning down the street. “I want to participate in the Chunin exams, so let’s clear this up, shall we?”

Shisui curls a hand around his arm. “The hawks. Do you think-”

“It could be.” Itachi’s brain is misfiring. An Uchiha that’s Gaara’s age with the Mangekyo. He doesn’t know how that’s possible. Could he have misjudged the age? 

“You two.” Temari pauses as they near the building. “Do me a favor and don’t mention that little incident to the diplomat. My father’s a raging asshole and he doesn’t take to Gaara’s attitude fluctuations very well.”

“Will you tell us what you saw?”

She stiffens.

“Don’t worry, you’re a good liar, I was just trained in interrogation. Seven years ago my cousin - Itachi’s younger brother - went missing. His name’s Sasuke. We’re wondering if you could help us find him.”

She chews at her bottom lip for a minute. “Fine. Meet me at the town square after the negotiations are done.”

Itachi watches her go, slipping into the building like a shadow. His heart is in his throat. 

“You okay?”

“Fine.” He says, letting Weasel fill the cracks while he nearly forgets how to breathe. For the first time in years he might actually have a lead. He knows better than to get himself so worked up over something that might turn out to be a dead end or unrelated entirely, but this is the closest he’s been to finding his brother _ever._ He still suspects Danzo had some part in it, but that says nothing about where he is _now_ , and the lack of evidence is demoralizing. The crow he had sent into ROOT headquarters had, predictably, been discovered, but not before finding a tunnel that seemed to extend outside Konoha’s boundaries. “We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

Shisui squeezes his shoulder. “Okay, let’s go.”

Sakura thinks it’s _especially_ suspicious that Kakashi, the day before, had showed up early, with a pack of dogs, no less, to tell them they have a mission. She also thinks it’s suspicious that they’re setting off on a mission so close to the Chunin exams when they should, logically, either be training or reading up on the exam itself. So far she’s been unable to find anything on it at all. She’s weaseled out of Ino that the first part might be a written exam, with the sharp reminder that the rounds change between villages. Her brother took the exams six years ago, the last time Konoha hosted the event, and that was all he was willing to disclose about it. It’s even stranger when he announces they’re going on a mission in the Land of Steam.

They’re currently waiting for Kakashi, packed (though she only has a vague idea of what she was meant to pack for), near the little playground by the Academy. Naruto is on the ground, sulking, because he got chased off the swings by a pack of angry six year olds.

All things considered, the Land of Steam isn’t really that far from Konoha, and it’s certainly not dangerous. The worst thing it really has to offer are petty roadside bandits, and Sakura could fight those off in her sleep (of course, it would do her well to factor her teammates into that situation, because she really doesn’t want to kill any of them with Mokuton by accident. Most of her training hadn't been that extensive - because of her poor chakra reserves - and it had been solitary. She keeps forgetting that she has teammates who she runs the risk of accidentally hitting). Of course, while it’s politically allied with Konoha, it’s that way so that it gets to keep some of its autonomy. Thick, dense forests provide the perfect place for missing nin to hide. 

Kakashi arrives not soon after, Pakkun on his tail along with three other dog summons she doesn’t recognize. 

“What _is_ this mission, anyways?” Ino frowns, picking at the straps of her pack as Kakashi gets situated. 

“It’s survival training.” Kakashi replies brightly. 

_“What?”_

“You three need to get better at it so I don’t have to worry about one of you eating something poisonous while my back is turned, so for the next few days we’re going to spend some time in the Land of Steam.”

Ino grumbles and Sakura scowls deeper.

“Why _now?_ The Chunin exams are coming up! Shouldn’t we be looking into that?”

“Now, survival training is a very important part of Shinobi training. Once you’re a Chunin, you’re allowed to go on international missions and you'll likely have to make due on the way.”

“Didn’t we already go to the Land of Waves?” Naruto squints.

Ino rolls her eyes. “The Land of Waves was colonized by Konoha, Naruto. He means places that aren't affiliated with Konoha.”

“... oh. I knew that.”

Sakura still thinks this is suspicious. 

“Oh, come on, you three. You’ll be fine. Sakura, you should be excited.”

“...why?”

“We’ll be in the forest, your element. The perfect opportunity for you to practice Mokuton.”

Sakura grumbles and Ino bumps shoulders with her. 

“It’s just a glorified camping trip. What, can you not handle it?” She teases. Sakura bumps her shoulder back. “ _You’re_ the only one who can’t handle it. Remember that time your brothers took you camping and I came with you?”

Ino grimaces. “We were _nine.”_

“Yeah, and you convinced me to go off the path and look at the owls and then you got us lost-”

“I said I was sorry!”

Sakura snickers and Ino rolls her eyes. 

“Alright kids. Let’s go.” Kakashi calls, already starting down the narrow dirt path. Sakura sighs, already hating this trip, and trudges unenthusiastically after him.

The negotiations last less than an hour. The diplomat clearly wants to be rid of him, Temari is very obviously zoning out, and Shisui, beneath his pleasant smile, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, including the site of an active volcano, than this room, which is baking in the mid-afternoon sun. The diplomat has managed to insult them _four different times_ in the same sentence, in a roundabout, passive-aggressive way, and Itachi is reluctantly impressed. He clearly has no small amount of disdain for the regional daimyo, or for the Kazekage’s decision to go along with the treaty with Konoha. Objectively, Itachi understands why he has reservations. By cutting back military funds, the quality of Shinobi work has dropped, leaving them to outsource jobs to Konoha.

They’re dancing around the subject again - all they need are signatures.

Eventually, it seems that Temari has had enough. 

“Amersis, are these terms acceptable? Yes?” She snaps, turning to them. “Representatives, do you find these terms acceptable?”

“Yes.”

“Then if you’ll kindly sign here.” She points at the line and refuses to move until they’ve all written their names - which doesn’t take long, which prompts Suna’s diplomat - Amersis - to list his name as well.

“Wonderful.” The smile on her face is nothing short of incandescent spite. “I’m very pleased on my village’s behalf that we could come to an agreement. Your presence here is much appreciated, and we’d be happy to accommodate whatever you need for the journey back.”

“I think we’re settled, but thank you.” Thinly veiled amusement shines in his eyes as Temari slides the paper back towards Amersis, a victorious grin on her face. She meets his gaze.

Itachi stands up, and Shisui quickly follows suit. Temari moves to do the same, before Amersis says sharply, “Temari. Could I have a word?”

Her mouth tightens, eyes narrowing. “Of course.”

Itachi and Shisui wait outside while the rest of their team disperses, likely to collect all of their belongings before they leave. Shisui leans back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watches kids across the street kicking a ball between themselves in a very specific pattern. Itachi can’t discern exactly what that pattern is, exactly, but a boy kicks the ball across from him and the children shriek as he sits out. 

“So, you’ve been here before?” Itachi raises an eyebrow.

Shisui holds his hands up. “What? I can’t tell you _everything_ about my ANBU experiences.”

The war ended around eight years ago, which would’ve made Shisui… around thirteen years old.

“You-”

He’s interrupted as Temari leaps out the open window, smoothing her skirt down when she lands.

“You okay?” Shisui asks. “That guy kinda seems like an asshole.”

Temari glances over her shoulder, a tad surprised. “Yeah, I’m fine. We can’t talk here, though. He’s watching and reporting everything I do to my father.” She rolls her eyes. 

They follow her through the street, before coming to a stop beneath the shade of a tarp billowing in the wind. It looks like the market tents that vendors sell under.

“This tent’s not being used.” She says. “Now, what do you two want to know?”

“Can you describe him? The boy?”

Her mouth tightens as she deliberates. “... He didn’t want me to tell anyone he was here. He saved Gaara, so I figured it was the least I could do.” She blows her hair out of her face. “I don’t know why and I don’t need to. He asked me not to mention him, but everyone already knows it’s an Uchiha running around.” She leans back against an unused table, her bracelets clacking against the wood. “But if it was my brother I’d want to know. Are you gonna go around advertising it?”

Itachi shifts his weight. “That’s circumstantial.” At the same time, Shisui says, “Sure!”

“What about the Elders? They’ll want to know.”

“I’m like, seventy percent sure Haruhi is in cohorts with Danzo. I’m not telling her shit. Go ahead, Temari, we won’t tell.” 

She arches an eyebrow. “Okay, then. I brought Gaara into the desert because he was in one of his moods and he couldn’t hurt anyone out there - don’t tell anyone I told you that - and then some kid riding a hawk swoops down and tells me to get Gaara out of there because the Akatsuki were coming or something like that. He knocked Gaara out with a genjutsu and I helped him fight off the Akatsuki guy. He looked… like a stereotypical Uchiha. Pale skin, short dark hair. He looked maybe eleven or twelve. He had the Sharingan - it…” She pauses. “I didn’t see the pattern well, but it wasn’t three tomoe. He… created black fire, and… a skeleton?”

“Susano.” Shisui clarifies. “Don’t tell anyone you saw that, Haruhi might arrange to have you assassinated.”

Temari grimaces. “Noted.”

“You said he rode in on a hawk.” Itachi prompts. “Did he have any other hawks with him?”

“Two, I think. I wasn’t paying much attention to them, but - the big one that carried Gaara back to the courtyard, a small one, and a darker one.”

Multiple hawk summons, then. He and Shisui share a glance. 

“Y-”

“Itachi! Shisui! What are you doing? We have to go!”

Shisui winces and glances behind him. “Looks like that’s our cue. Thanks for all your help.”

Itachi bows his head. “Thank you.”

Temari looks vaguely discomforted by the gesture. “No need. Just don’t go telling anyone anything.”

“We won’t, I promise.” 

Shisui waves and Temari reciprocates the gesture half heartedly as they go. 

Much of Takigakure is closed to travellers. Despite being boxed in by four separate nations, they’ve never been invaded - this can probably be attributed to the terrain. Despite not having produced notable Shinobi in quite a while, they do have a Jinchuuriki to boast, hidden well within the natural borders of the village. It’s natural defenses would be near impregnable, if not for the underwater cave system originating from the plunge pool in the gorge downstream of the falls from which it derives its name - the tallest one in the world. The most notable of its falls are hanging valleys, along the edges of glacial troughs long after the prehistoric ice had melted. 

Luckily for Sasuke, the land around the impenetrable city is open to travellers - particularly because of the revenue the country makes from tourists looking to see the famous waterfalls. 

He walks alongside the river, surging with runoff. It’s the rainy season, when the rivers roar with white foam and rapids and crash over the rocks at the bottom of the valley with enough force to erode boulders.

He’s working his way East around the village borders, unscalable walls of sheer rock, plastered with seals, rising on the other side of the river. To the West is the basin, where most tourists go. Most maps he could find of the region were incomplete - there are so many trails and backwater paths that they don’t make it on to a regular map. 

He approaches the guidepost, a dilapidated hunk of wood sticking out of the ground at the intersection of trails, with writing in three different languages. The map is peeling off and ripped on one side, where the trails converge towards the Northeast. 

“Need help there?”

He turns to see a man approach, a group which he assumes to be his family behind him. He looks a little like he could come from Konoha - his skin is tanned and his hair dark brown. He hopes not, because in that case, his black hair and pale skin should immediately indicate his Uchiha heritage. 

“Where are you heading?”

“East.” He says. “Towards Iron.”

“East?” He raises an eyebrow. “Not a tourist, then? Most people come here to see the falls. But if you’re headed for Iron…” He squints down at his own map. “You should probably take this trail here.” He points to the wider trail heading East. It looks well walked - probably from tourists coming west. “There are patrolling Chunin through the woods, so if you need help you can ask one of them.”

Sasuke buries the urge to wince. He wants to avoid Chunin. 

“I’m not in a hurry.” He lies, and looks down at the map. “Are there waterfalls on the way?”

“Oh, yes!” He takes the man’s distraction as he points out several sights to flick his Sharingan on momentarily to memorize the map before deactivating it. Meandering should prevent the Chunin from finding him - or, by deviating from the main roads, he reduces the risk of encountering anyone else. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem, kid. Say, be careful around the waterfalls. They get real steep in places, and the rocks are slippery. As long as you don’t fall you should be fine. Oh, and stay away from the basins deep in the forest.”

Sasuke arches an eyebrow.

“Old myth that if you collect any of the water in there, part of your soul gets trapped there. Just always pays off to respect native culture.”

Sasuke hums. He finds that a little hard to believe, but the tailed beasts and Zetsu exist, so who’s he to say?

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Good luck on your trip!”

The roar of water is omnipresent. He’s nearing the heart of the forest. In the distance, towards the coast, the land will slope back down towards the sea, but he’s following a trail now that he’ll have to leave. This one leads to the horseshoe falls, which attract too much attention for his liking. The air is hot and damp, the trail cut open with fanged stone and crawling with bugs and humidity. The climate is much worse here than in either Konoha or Kusagakure, mostly because of the humidity. At least Suna was dry. The moisture in the air leaves him feeling vaguely grimy, like he’s wearing a second skin of sweat, the cacophonous buzzing of beetles and mosquitoes around his head deafening. Aya and Sukai flutter behind him, batting at any bugs that dare approach. Chiha is still resting, Umo still keeping watch in Oto, and Tenku is still angry with him for getting him involved with Deidara. 

_“How close is the water?”_ Aya calls.

“Shouldn’t you be able to tell?”

 _“It’s hard to sense things in here! It’s all… muffled!”_ She flaps her wings. She’s gotten a little bigger, he thinks, her wingspan wider, so she’s almost as big as Chiha. Sukai, meanwhile, is almost twice her size, which makes maneuvering through the intricately intertwined branches a little harder. Thick, rope-like vines, easily the size of his fist, wrap around the trees. Heliconia frowns onto the path, framed by dark green leaves.

Eventually, the trail curls down around the riverside. He steps onto wet rock, just inches above the clear water. The river is shallow here, but wide, the riverbed carved into the conclavities of rock-cut basins. 

_“I hear the falls!”_

“The middle falls.”

They walk alongside the river, upstream, until reaching the falls itself. The water tumbles down over a sheet of basalt, cascading in deep steps before entering into the basin. The force of it kicks up thick vapor. 

“This is where we switch trails.” He says. “Aya, any Chunin around?”

 _“Nope!”_ She’s very clearly preoccupied with the falls. Farther around the bend is another higher, steeper one. Most of the river feeds into the Devil’s Throat, a sheer thousand foot drop into the wide river below. He steps over the water, adjusting his chakra as he goes.

 _“Aya!”_ Sukai snaps. _“Don’t get so close to the-”_

Too late.

He turns just in time to see the edge of her wing clip the water and drag her down. He immediately creates a clone to go fish her out of the water, and when he sets her down on a relatively dry stone, she looks like a wet rat. He forces the quivering edge of his smile down while Sukai loses it on a higher rock pillar, making a wheezing sound that probably means laughter.

Aya groans, flapping her wings to get the water off. 

“Got a little close there, didn’t you?” He asks, flat, and turns before she can catch his shoulders trembling.

 _“You’re laughing at me! Hey! Sasuke, stop laughing at me!”_ She whines. 

“You can’t fly like that. You can go back, if you want.”

She shakes herself with a glare, and disappears in a puff of smoke. Sukai is still laughing when he jumps off the rock and resumes walking, summoning Tenku. He doesn’t so much as pause as the hawk appears on his outstretched arm.

 _“What do you want, brat?”_ He snaps at his hair. _“If you send me out on another mission like the desert one I’ll peck your eyes out.”_

“Good to see you too.” He replies dryly. “I need you to look for Chunin.”

Once they’re out of here, then he can use Moya to get across both Iron and Sound - Iron has very, very few Shinobi in it, and of those, no one who proved dangerous to him. Otogakure was a little more difficult, but if he stayed near the outskirts he should avoid most scrutiny. 

Tenku sighs something along the lines of “ungrateful brat” before disappearing into the canopy.

_“He still mad at you for the desert?”_

He hums. 

_“How much farther do we have to go?”_

“A while. Once we get out of here it’ll go quicker.”

She seems satisfied by this response, turning again to look at the water. 

“We shouldn’t be wasting time.” He reminds her. She makes a noise of agreement, and they walk deeper into the forest.

It takes him until long into the night to get to the border of Iron. Towards the edge of the forest, the forest begins to thin, the heavy humidity easing. The mountains start in earnest here - characterized by deep ravines, thin, serpentine rivers cutting through the mountain range. The trail is less of a trail and more of a crude path that can only be distinguished by the red markers on the stone and trees that are wholly inconsistent. They’re close enough to Iron now that he should be able to use Moya for the rest of the trip. 

He hops onto a gneiss ledge, then to an upper shelf of metamorphic rock. Over his shoulder, Sukai holds a piece of shale in her mouth - she’d insisted on bringing it with her, for whatever reason. He isn’t about to ask.

“I’m going to summon Moya.” He says. “So your presence isn’t necessary.”

 _“Rude little shit.”_ She swipes at his shoulder. “You sure you can handle Moya right now? I can see your chakra, don’t bullshit me.” 

He resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes. I’ll be fine.”

She looks like she really doesn’t believe him, but she can’t call him out on it.

_“If you say so, kid. Don’t come crying to me if you pass out on the ride.”_

“Hn.”

She slips back into the spirit realm, and in her stead, he calls for Moya. He retrieves the fur coat. It might be warm now, but so far up in the air, and heading deeper into Iron, he knows that the wind is unforgiving. 

_“Sasuke.”_ She greets, bowing her head so he can stroke her head.

“Ready to go?”

_“Of course.”_

Flying is something that Sasuke will never admit to liking. Maybe it was the euphoric feeling of wind in his hair, the knowledge that he’d left Orochimaru and his shackles behind below the earth in the tunnels of Oto. It feels a little stranger in this body, crouched so low to her back, ducking his head down to keep the wind out of his face. 

She catches the wind on the edges of her wings, veering left to avoid a tall spire of rock. The farther they go into Iron the colder it will get - they’re close to the border, much too close to Konoha for his liking, so he doesn’t anticipate they’ll have to avoid any snowstorms. In the distance, snow-capped mountains stand out against the horizon. 

“How soon do you think we can be there?”

_“I can fly for the duration of the night and well into tomorrow, I estimate we will be well through Sound.”_

He lowers his head again and prepares for a long day.

As much as he _loathes_ Oto, he can admit that the landscape in this world is just as stunning. The sun peaks between two mountains, the sky bright, clear blue. Soon it will plunge into deep pinks and purples. Otogakure at its border is framed by a steep mountain range wrapped around a relatively flat system of valleys and thickly wooded forests, but open to invasion from both the west and east. It’s always boasted a wide genealogical pool - both by happenstance and by Orochimaru’s interference. The betting pools and trafficking introduced a slew of new clans to the already highly diverse population, along with migration and invasion from Lightning and all surrounding territories. 

They’re staying close to the border, out of range of the chakra-detecting seals, when Aya appears nearly in his lap, screaming.

_“The Akatsuki!”_

“What?” He startles, rearing back long enough to almost lose his grip. 

_“To the east! There’s a Jinchuuriki there!”_

A Jinchuuriki? Shit. _Shit._ He hadn't been counting on that.

“Moya! We’re changing plans - we’re going to the Land of Steam!”

Her hesitance confirms her confusion, but she complies easily, changing directions seamlessly. He was planning on cutting through northeast Steam to get to Lightning quicker, but it seems that they’re going to be making a stop there.

“Can you tell who?”

_“No, there are two of them that I can sense.”_

That’s… bad. That’s _really bad._ Fighting off one Akatsuki member was bad enough. Fighting two will kill him.

“How far away are they?”

_“Closer than us.”_

He grits his teeth. “Moya.”

 _“I understand.”_ The snap of her wings sends wind tearing at his hair, at his shoulders. He’s crouched over Aya so the wind won’t fling her off Moya’s back.

He can only hope that he gets there in time.

“Hey! Ino!” Naruto shouts, starting towards the campfire. Kakashi is observing them from the trees, divorced from the process of building a campsite but ready to intervene should they cause themselves imminent danger (like the tent Naruto almost set on fire - technically speaking, Kakashi hadn't specified _where_ exactly he wanted the fire to be, so he’s not going to take the blame for that one). “I got that plant you wanted!”

Ino, surprisingly enough, is the most experienced camper out of the three of them.Considering her parents involvement in ANBU, he supposes it shouldn’t be surprising. She’s tending to the fire by the time he gets back to the campsite, adding drops of iodine to their flasks to purify it. Their campsite is far enough away from the river he was just at that, in the case of flash flooding, they won’t get swept up, but close enough that it’s a short five minute walk there and back. 

She turns, sweeping her hair over her shoulder, just to squint at him. “... are you holding poison ivy?”

“Poison what?”

She just shakes her head. “Just - put it down. And wash your hands.”

He kicks the plant back away from the clearing, hunkering down next to her. His tent looks… mostly okay. At least he wasn’t the worst at putting one up - that title actually went to Sakura, who couldn’t figure out where the poles went and accidentally snapped one in half when she got irritated. 

“Where’s Kakashi-sensei? And Sakura?”

“He said he was going to help her with Mokuton.” She shrugs her shoulders back. “He said we have to put a bunch of seals up. Come help me.”

She stands up abruptly, leaving him scrambling to run after her.

He follows her example, plastering the seals to the surrounding trees. Through the glare of sunlight filtering through the trees, he can see that Kakashi took the liberty of setting up trip wires and other traps that he doesn’t recognize, and those are only the ones he can see.

Ino follows his line of vision. “He’s paranoid. My Dad - he’s the director of IT and helps with interrogation but he’s also responsible for the psychological exams in ANBU and he says Kakashi is a little bit crazy.”

“... should you know that?”

“If you tell anyone I told you that I’ll hurt you.”

Naruto squeaks. “Understood.”

Ino pulls away from the tree and brushes off her hands. “Okay, the perimeter is secure. Now we just have to wait for Kakashi-sensei and Sakura.” 

Naruto sits back down next to the fire, watching it smoulder from within its circular prison of smooth stones he found. He picks at the grass while Ino sits down and sharpens her kunai. 

“Aren’t they taking a while?”

Ino shrugs. “Not really. You’re just impatient.”

He glowers. “I am _not.”_

The silence stretches on, broken only by the scrape of steel on steel. 

“I’m going to sleep.”

Ino gives him a strange look. “Okay? Goodnight.”

Naruto steps inside his tent and curls up on his bedroll, pillowing his head on his arm. He stares up at the dark gray of the tent’s siding until the frogs by the river begin to croak loudly. Sleep doesn’t take him.

Naruto doesn’t know how long it’s been, but Ino is calling for him, and she sounds scared.

Unease leeches the grogginess from his bones, adrenaline poured straight into his veins as he stumbles towards the opening flap, struggling with the zipper. She leans close, her eyes wide as she glances over her shoulder and yanks him out of the tent.

Kakashi and Sakura still aren’t back. Naruto swallows his fear.

“I heard a scream.” She says, her fingers white knuckled around his shoulder. Terror pounds an unsteady rhythm beneath his sternum as he strains to listen. The chirp of frogs, the rustle of leaves. The quiet crackling of snapped twigs. With one foot, he nervously drills into a pile of compost, decaying leaves crumbling. 

They both jump at the high strain of a wire being tripped. Kunai fly towards a tree, but they don’t catch anyone.

“Someone tripped the seals.” She whispers, the flickering shadows cast by the fire dancing across her face as her grip becomes bruising. 

“It can’t be Sakura or Kakashi-sensei, right?”

“They know how to deactivate the seals - whoever this is tripped them off.”

Naruto swallows. Sweat rolls down his spine. “That’s okay. It’s probably just bandits.”

He grips a kunai hard, until the color drains from his knuckles. The edge of the knife quivers. 

It’s not like they haven’t fought worse - they survived Zabuza, didn’t they?

 _Though,_ a little voice at the back of his head reminds him, _that was because of Kakashi._

Another seal is activated with a high-pitched shriek. Naruto whirls around just in time for a long shadow to fall over him. A man, bearing uncanny resemblance to a shark, or something one could fish off the southern coast from the murky bed of the sea, looms over them. Ino’s breath stutters to a halt as she moves instinctively away, dragging him with her. The sword swung over his shoulder is easily twice Naruto’s size.

The worst thing, though, is the killing intent. It _oozes_ off him, it’s so heavy that he can barely breathe.

The man smiles, revealing sharp incisors. Dried blood is caked onto the side of his face. On his left hand, his fingers are bent awkwardly, clearly broken.

“That’s quite a Sensei you got.” His right hand fixes around the handle of his sword. “He really earned that flee on sight order of his in the Bingo Book.”

 _Do something,_ the voice at the back of his head demands. He shakes. As the man steps closer, Ino drags him farther back, her eyes darting for an escape. _Do something!_

“What do you _want?”_ Ino shouts.

“The Jinchuuriki. If you hand him over I won’t kill you."

Panic is written all over Ino’s face, in her eyes, in the line of her mouth. Naruto is afraid, for a moment, that she’ll run and leave him there.

 _“Fuck_ you.” She spits, and her voice shakes, but it’s enough for Naruto to get a handle on his own fear. Shadow clones burst to life and Ino jumps forward, already making the sign to complete her kekkei genkai. He clears a path for her, because otherwise it won’t work, but he moves too quickly. He moves too fast for Naruto to register, and before he can so much as cry out he’s closed the distance between them. A well placed kick to the stomach sends her flying back into the grass. She curls up on the ground, rolling onto her forearms to cough up blood.

Naruto’s shadow clones are useless. He carves through them like they’re nothing, and Naruto realizes the only thing that he can hope to do is put distance between them, because there’s no way he’ll last long in a one sided fight like this.

He turns to run, rolling back onto his heels, but the man is faster than his panic.

He sweeps his sword into his side, and the world fizzles black. Obliquely, he recognizes the pain of chakra depletion, the sting of inflamed chakra pathways and the exhaustion that comes with it, but he’s never felt it so swiftly or so potently. He forces his eyes open, the bleary image of the man leaning over him, extending a hand towards him-

His vision cuts out again, but he hears a sharp inhale of surprise as someone lands on the grass. His heart soars. Kakashi?

He parses together the image of a foot, a stranger with their back to them. Something is prodding incessantly at his side - a hawk?

Naruto’s hand _burns._ He clenches his jaw to surpass a groan, and as the world smears together, the stranger - no older than him - turns to look over their shoulder. He sees a dark mane of unruly hair, eyes bleeding red-

He feels the world churn to a halt as recognition sparks in the gaps between memory. A face, haunted by the cobwebs of his imperfect recollection. Someone he’s seen before, someone he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

“... _Sasuke?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke, you glorious little trash fire. What a disaster. 
> 
> I had a little too much fun researching for Kusagakure and Takigakure (for the last one all I really had to go off was 'watefalls', though, which made things interesting). Kusagakure is based off the Ukrain steppe, while Takigakure is based off Iguaza falls and surrounding territories as well as Yosemite. The myth I referenced is based off the Ahwahneechee legend of the Poloti. 
> 
> (Also the story about getting lost in the woods is true, it happened to me)
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


	7. Nova

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got excited so here I am again

_Panic_ is a word insufficient to describe what he’s feeling. 

Kisame is possibly the worst possible matchup for him - especially right now. He’s never fought him before, so he doesn’t have the benefit of foresight like he did with Deidara. He knows he favours taijutsu, which is what he’s currently weakest in, and that abomination that he calls a sword can absorb chakra (though whether it can only do it when it makes contact or if it can absorb ambient chakra is uncertain). That means the first thing he needs to do is get that sword away from him. One of his hands is already broken. If he can make them both useless, then he can’t wield the sword. Speed is his best asset here - it’s the only thing that he can’t match. 

He stands, tense, over Naruto, crumpled on the ground. The sound of his name had sent a chill down his spine colder than ice. But he can’t think about it - can’t think about what that implies right now - can’t afford to be anything but levelheaded. 

Kisame stands opposite him, sword lowered in apparent bewilderment. Aya already located Kakashi and Sakura somewhere behind them - both unconscious, but neither with any substantial wounds. The problem, then, becomes the location of the other signature. 

The Mangekyo whorls to life - there’s no use trying to avoid using it. He lets the henge over his eye melt away. 

“An Uchiha.” He pauses. “You wouldn’t happen to be the little punk who took out Deidara, would you?”

His heart slams in his temples. Kisame looks casually open, a reminder that he has no reason to be guarded. A reminder that Sasuke is not a threat. 

“Said you had something called the Mangekyo? That's why your eyes look different?” He shifts a step closer and Sasuke bristles, lightning flaring up instinctively. “Woah - that’s the Rinnegan. What are you doing with one of those?”

“Moya.” He snaps, never breaking eye contact, his sword drawn before him and held level. HIs knuckles are white wrapped around the hilt to hide the tremor in his hands - an adolescence spent with Orochimaru taught him discipline; it conditioned him away from his fear response, but what his mind remembers this body does not. His breathing shudders in his ears.

Moya is already in the frenzied process of nudging an unconscious Naruto onto her back, with Aya’s help. He doesn’t need to worry about Kakashi or the others - Kisame’s only goal is Naruto. 

The Sharingan’s kinetic vision catches the slight shift in position - the shadow near his knee moves - seconds before he lunges.

Sasuke is faster.

His blade is pathetically small and thin compared to the monstrosity that is Samehada, but he parries the downward blow anyways. He can hear the blade breathing, the moist, choppy sound in tandem with its shuddering. The bandages wrapped around its length fall off, revealing a configuration of pointed scales, a fanged, drooling mouth at its tip. 

He bares his teeth. “Fast.”

Moya takes off in a snap of feathers. Naruto is safe. 

Sasuke pulls back immediately. In a test of strength, he’ll lose. 

Kisame barrels after him, and then changes course, to trail Moya. Sasuke intercepts him, Chidori sparking momentarily. 

“Who’s with you?” Sasuke demands, brandishing his weapon again. Chakra-based attacks won’t work. Taijutsu won’t work. He doesn’t want to risk using Amaterasu because if he’s wrong, it will kill him. 

There _is_ one thing he can do, though.

It always rains heavily in redwood forests. 

“You figured that out.” Kisame almost sounds _impressed._ Sasuke clenches his jaw. Adrenaline pounds in his skull. His heart beats a humminbird pace in his throat. “You’re full of surprises.”

Sasuke flies through the seals of Katon. Right now, the risk of a forest fire is the least of his problems.

He exhales a pillar of fire into the sky, and Kisame regards him strangely. Sasuke is open in the front. Kisame charges.

He ducks to the side as Samehada whips over his head. Kisame reaches back and kicks before he has the chance to fully avoid that. He twists, the foot collides with his lower ribs.

_Shit,_ he hisses through his teeth, skidding back through the muddied grass. He hopes that’s cracked and not broken. His knowledge of medical ninjutsu is practically non existent - it doesn’t extend beyond the mandatory lessons back in the academy.

Kisame is on him again in an instant, and he just barely avoids getting his skull smashed to pieces. He ducks under swinging legs, carefully avoiding Samehada. A hit to his temple leaves his ear ringing. He ducks around his arm and drives his sword up into his back, meeting the hard resistance of scales. He barely pierces through the muscle. 

Kisame doesn’t let him run for long. He bolts through the forest, up onto high, thinner branches that he’ll break should he try to follow. A water dragon crashes after him through the forest floor, swallowing vegetation in its jaws. Chidori ricochets off his sword and disperses it. Kisame smashes through the undergrowth, swinging Samehada through broad tree trunks. 

Overhead, the sky darkens. 

He just needs to keep moving. 

Sweat rolls down his face. His ribs ache. He can’t breathe too deep or shallow. His vision blurs on one side, the ringing intensifying.

He unspools wire around his fingers, weaving between the trees. The metallic glimmer of metal can be seen in the dim light. 

He draws Kisame after him, bursting through the trees, hurtling back down into a clearing. Kisame rushes after him. Sasuke pulls at the wire, catching Kisame in a cradle. It won’t stop him for long. 

He leans back and exhales a pillar of fire into the grove, easily hot enough to burn a body.

He pauses to catch his breath, exhaustion and pain nearly bringing him to his knees.

Past the thick, wafting smoke, something moves.

Another water dragon douses the extraneous fires. It looms over him, watery teeth bared, like needles in a bear trap. 

Rain begins to fall.

Chidori flares to life and courses down its body, and Sasuke whirls around just in time to see Kisame, half his skin charred and blistered, grafting itself back together. Samehada hisses and gurgles, spines standing on end. 

Sasuke swings at his legs - the unprotected knees, only to be blocked. He rears back as Kisame corners him. A palm slams into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He stumbles back, dropping into a roll as Kisame follows him down, jumping to his feet.

Samehada slices through the air. His mind goes blank. Terror pulls the bones of Susano around him. Ribs wrap around him. Sinew attaches a humerus to the shoulder joint. The knobs of vertebrae stretch and form crude lumps of bone. 

The demon sword gurgles, lines of sharp teeth gnashing together. Kisame’s eyes widen. It gives Sasuke the opportunity he needs. He swipes forward with Susano’s hand, attempting to wrestle the sword from his grip. The sword _screeches_ and twists, seemingly of its own accord, to arch towards the chakra. He jerks back, senses flaring. 

Something shifts in the corner of his vision.

Samehada eats at his chakra, and he forcefully deactivates Susano, leaping back to give himself room, but Kisame is faster.

He’s knocked to the ground. His fingernails curl against stone as Samehada swings down like the blade of a guillotine. Susano prevents it from hitting him directly, sapping at his chakra. He grits his teeth.

“Samehada likes you.” Kisame notes.

His breathing comes shallow and sharp. Waves of pain flare down his side and a groan strangles its way up his throat, fighting clenched teeth.

The rain hums a pattern around him. The sky, thick with storm clouds, rumbles. Serrated teeth of lightning crack in the underbelly of the clouds. Threads of chakra gather at his fingertips. Susano will protect him, but not even Kisame can survive complete obliteration.

The air above him distorts and waves, and Sasuke startles, pushing himself back into the ground.

The weight of Kisame disappears entirely. Sasuke pushes himself onto his forearms, Kirin ready to be summoned at a moment’s notice. Cold rain drips down his face, obscuring his vision, but across from him, at the edge of the clearing, stands Kisame and… Obito.

_Fuck._

“What’d you do that for?” Kisame asks, but he doesn’t try to go after him again.

Obito looks at him strangely through his one-eyed mask. “Quite a storm you kicked up there, kiddo.”

The unspoken question is there. Obito… doesn’t remember. Sasuke isn’t sure why he thought he would. His presence is… uncanny. There’s something impermanent about his chakra signature, like a strong breeze could carry it away. It feels less like it belongs to a person and more like unattached particles occupying the same space.

Kirin hisses like the high whine of boiling water. The longer he holds it off the worse it’s going to get.

His Sharingan is activated - watching his chakra. 

His finger twitches. Kirin descends from the clouds, a draconic manifestation of crackling lightning. Obito’s hand is already on Kisame’s shoulder, dragging him into Kamui, by the time he summons it. He watches as the world explodes into white light, static electricity creeping up his spine and making his hair stand on end. The earth crumbles around him as Kirin tears into the ground, leaving a great crater behind. 

He deactivates the Mangekyo, searching the wreckage wearily. No sign of Kisame or Obito - no charred bones to indicate that they fell prey to Kirin’s power. Which meant they both escaped.

He collapses back into the mud. 

_Damn._

At some point after, what must be a handful of minutes and not the hours of agony that it feels like, he rolls onto his stomach, pushing himself onto his forearms and then his knees. He’s covered in mud and his temple is bleeding. There’s an ugly purple and blue motley of bruising stretching from the second lowest rib to his hip and he worries about the head wound. 

Eventually, he drags himself to his feet and trudges back to the campsite to find Ino, Sakura and Kakashi. He has to be gone by the time he wakes up but he needs to make sure none of them are dying, either. 

Ino looks like she’s fine - bruising around the stomach, but as far as he can tell she’ll be fine once she gets back to the village. 

He finds the both of them lying in the skeletal remains of Mokuton. Sakura is pale, curled on her side, blood dribbling down her chin. He peels back her eyelids to make sure she isn’t dead or bleeding internally, and she seems… mostly fine. She’ll be fine.

He moves on to Kakashi then, looking at the Sharingan. Uchiha have an unfortunate predisposition to most eye-related diseases. Blood welling up in the tear ducts can cause infection which can lead to blindness. Uchiha chakra pathways are different from the regular person’s - chakra functions much like blood in the sense that there are main arteries, so to speak, providing more chakra to the places that need it more. Only clans that produce dojutsu have particularly notable chakra coils around the eyes, and damage to the Sharingan can also damage those pathways.

Kakashi looks as fine as he’s ever going to be. Stressing along the creases and more visible blood vessels than he’s perfectly comfortable with, but otherwise fine.

“Aya, you can come out.”

She glares from the bushes. _“You blew up part of the forest.”_

He runs a hand over his face. “I need you to look at their chakra networks.”

She hops over to them with caution. _“They… look okay. Better than yours.”_

“I didn’t ask.”

She bats him with a wing. _“Sukai’s gonna murder you.”_

“She’ll have to get in line.”

He leans back on his haunches and stares at them. At the face of his teacher and teammate, perfectly preserved in his memory. It’s not the same, but a little part of him aches. He can’t fathom going back to Konoha - even if this one isn’t the same. Because in the end, Konoha is still built on the bones of the people it’s trampled and manipulated. The Uchiha compound still exists, so the segregation is still standing. 

He shouldn’t be entertaining this idea anyways. His anger has since coolled; now that he isn’t in the midst of the worst grief of his life, in the middle of an active war zone, he can… think more clearly. What would he say if he could come back? They would certainly have questions, and he definitely doesn’t have any answers that they’ll believe. And if the clan really is alive, then they’re going to want to know how he got the Mangekyo. 

_Itachi is there,_ he’s reminded, and it hurts more than he cares to admit. _As far as he’s concerned, all of his pain is purely physical. You can see him again._

Yeah, and then what?

He still has Itachi’s dying face branded into his memory, the tumultuous storm of _rage-sorrow-regret-relief-hatred-grief_ that followed something he hasn’t escaped quite yet. 

Aya hops on Kakashi’s chest. Sasuke sighs. “Don’t antagonize the unconscious people.”

_“Do you know them?”_ Aya asks, peering down at Kakashi’s face.

He pushes himself up to his feet. “Not really.”

He extends an arm for her to perch on. 

_“The girl is awake.”_

He limps back over to the clearing where the campsite is set up. Ino peers up at him through terrified, glassy eyes. 

“Who’re you?” She manages, her voice trembling. Her injuries aren’t that bad, comparatively. 

“The Akatsuki members are gone, I chased them off.” His voice is flat. “They were after Naruto because he’s a Jinchuuriki, I sent him back to Konoha. Your teammate and teacher are fine, they’re unconscious in the woods over there.”

“You chased them off?” She hauls herself up. “But you’re-”

Aya jumps off his arm and flutters by her shoulder. She flinches as Aya pulls at her earring. _“Hello!”_

“Aya, stop that. Your teammates should be awake soon. You should get back to the village as soon as possible.” 

“Wait- who are you-?”

He leaps up to the nearest branch and disappears into the forest.

When a foreign chakra signature is detected entering Konoha’s borders, Itachi isn’t particularly worried. They’re currently moving the participants of the Chunin exams - the Suna Shinobi, at the moment - into their accommodations at the edge of the village, fenced in by a guard set up to keep perimeter. They won’t be receiving the Kazekage until the exams draw closer, but his lodgings are already being prepared. Kusagakure’s participants have already begun to trickle through their gates, so it’s far from unusual. The Chunin at the gates, overwhelmed by the influx of people as they always are during times like these, are in charge of sifting through the reports and making sure everyone is accounted for.

When he sees the hawk, however, he’s inclined to investigate further.

“Salamander.” He says. She turns at her designation, her eyes dark beneath the red swirls of paint around her eyes. Their team has been assigned to guide the incoming waves of people to their lodgings and ensure no one strayed from the main route. “I need to check something.”

She only pauses for a second. “I’ll cover you.”

“Thank you.”

He leaps from the tree he’s perched on and starts towards the shape in the distance, his Sharingan activated to give him a better idea of what he’s dealing with. 

The hawk must be big. The observation tugs at the back of his mind.

It circles once around the gates. Some point at it and gawk, while others grimace. It’s clearly a Summon - and Itachi is beginning to see a pattern here. 

The hawk descends a fair number of feet away from the crowds, all waiting behind roped off aisles as they await entry, a conspicuous figure on its back.

Naruto Uzumaki.

It regards him strangely, intelligence glimmering in its eyes, before disappearing in a burst of white smoke, depositing Naruto on the ground.

Itachi immediately surges forward, checking his vital points, assessing him for injuries. 

There are people watching them.

Itachi, for lack of a better alternative, gathers him in his arms and moves as fast as he can to the Hokage.

Sasuke is not proud to say that he passes out thirty minutes later in the middle of the forest. 

_“It’s your broken rib.”_ Sukai tells him flatly. 

While Samehada _did_ absorb a portion of his chakra, the fight didn’t drag the way Deidara’s had, and he hadn't used Susano as long. So it’s more likely that he’d passed out from the pain (though, the dull sting of chakra exhaustion is still present). The fact that he can’t remember is alarming.

“Aya, where’s the nearest village in Frost?”

She flaps her wings, deliberating. _“To the… North. Far North.”_

The Land of Steam doesn’t produce Shinobi, so they’d have no reason to possess healers with knowledge of medical ninjutsu. Both Konoha and Oto are strictly off limits, which leaves Frost their only option. Frost isn’t known for its Shinobi either, but he doubts many places in Kumo that are able to administer aid will, so in this situation the uncertainty is worth the risk.

“If I summon Moya, both of you have to go.”

Sukai pins him in a surly glare. _“Don’t get yourself killed.”_

_“Bye-bye!”_

Both of them slip back into the spirit realm, and he takes a breath - not deep enough to irritate the broken ribcage - and builds up the chakra to summon Moya.

Moya flies for three hours before he’s forced to stop. The Land of Frost is always cold, but the wind this high up is unforgiving. His cheeks are red with wind scars, his fingers numbing with chill. Moya isn’t quite as susceptible to the cold, and had he more chakra to pour into her, she could’ve made the trip easily, even over the straits that bisect the continents and the ocean stretch that will lead them to Kumo. The landscape is scattered with boreal forests, thick, soldiering pine trees standing year-long. 

The days get shorter the further North you go. They’re technically on the cusp of the summer months; the thawing of the Arctic sea will usher in thick fog which will choke the vegetation of sunlight. 

“We have to land.” He says, his forehead pressed to her back, gloved fingers wrapped around her neck. The wind shoots down his throat like razors.

She descends onto an outcropping of rock overlooking the lower forest. Below are cold, mostly frozen bogs framed by spruce and pine. Moya disappears in the time it takes to blink; the space she was previously occupying is empty. 

He collapses against a tree, bark scraped off from the wind, boots crunching in soil bristling with permafrost. His breath fogs in the air, too quick and shallow as the wound at the bottom of his ribs aches. 

The chakra exhaustion will keep him down longer than the rib, though. He stays sitting up with his back braced - he doesn’t want to risk anything. 

The pull of unconscious bliss is stronger than his paranoia. Before he can go through the usual precaution of setting up a perimeter of seals, he loses his grip on consciousness.

It takes Naruto hours to wake.

Itachi is stationed by his side for fear that the Akatsuki will return for another attempt. Given that the team was stated to have been in the Land of Steam when it happened, and no news has yet travelled to Konoha about the awakening of the Kyubei, it’s safe to assume that he didn’t get away alone. Kakashi was with them when it happened, but between fighting one (or possibly more) Akatsuki and protecting his Genin, it’s unclear whether he succeeded in defending them or if he had outside help, or if the rest of his team members are alright. 

The presence of the hawk suggests that the mysterious Uchiha had a hand in protecting Naruto. Unless he’s a sensor-type, Itachi doesn’t know how he can pinpoint their locations with such success. Itachi has more questions than answers, and for now, he has only baseless conjecture to entertain.

Naruto wakes up in stages. First, with disorientation, blinking bright lights out of his eyes, then, with panic. He surges upright, spine stiff, eyes wide. His mind catches up a moment later, twisting around in his bedsheets as he cranes his neck to look at the empty room.

The entire wing had been cleared. It’s protocol, when dealing with the explosive nature of Jinchuuriki. There are seals plastered to the door, a warning to all the patrolling doctors that this particular patient requires S-class clearance. The med nin are all terrified of Naruto - justifiable, he supposes, considering tampering with the seal to any extent could launch them into another crisis like the one twelve years ago.

“Naruto.” Itachi says. “You’re in the hospital in Konoha, you’re safe.”

“I-” Naruto frowns at him, eyebrows furrowing. “Who are you?”

“My name is Itachi.”

“Itachi? Like…” His eyes haze over. _“Sasuke.”_

Ice drops down his spine. He stiffens automatically. “What?”

“Sasuke- he-” His fingers ball into the papery sheets with enough force to rip them. The edge of his mouth curls into a frown. He glances down at his hand, rubbing his palm absentmindedly.

“Are you saying you saw my brother?” Itachi isn’t prone to panic. That response had been ironed out of him by the time he hit ANBU. The closest he can remember to feeling true, helpless terror was the night Sasuke disappeared without a trace, as if he had never existed to begin with. “What happened? Where is he now?”

Naruto flinches, but he can’t find it in himself to feel bad. “I - I don’t know. I passed out. There was - there was this guy who looked like a shark. He had this big sword, and he knocked Ino out - Ino! Where is she? Where are they?”

“Your teammates haven’t returned yet.” He struggles to keep his voice even. He said Sasuke was there. But how? How had he known?

“What do you _mean_ they haven’t-” His voice catches on panic. “Then where _are_ they?”

“We don’t know.” Itachi persists. “They haven’t come back yet. A team was sent out to retrieve them, but we don’t know exactly where they were. Can you tell me more about the attack?”

“He - the fish guy - he came walking into our camp and I think he already fought Kakashi-sensei and Sakura because his hand was broken and he was bleeding. But he knocked Ino out and he hit me with his sword and then it did something, I felt really cold and tired. Uh, then he was like, going to grab me or something, and then - and then Sasuke jumped in front of me.”

“Sasuke.” He says, his words sharp with panic. “As in - my brother?”

“Yeah - he had black hair and the red eye thing.”

“How can you be sure?”

He makes a frustrated noise. “I just _am._ ”

Itachi keeps himself in check. Giving in to his panic won’t make the situation any better.

“We need to see the Hokage. Can you walk?”

“I’m fine.” He grumbles, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He slides off, not bothering to go for his shoes as he makes for the door. 

If what he’s saying is true, then Sasuke must be close. Then Sasuke is alive, and he’s okay, and his baby brother has kept himself alive after all this time and is _actively fighting the Akatsuki._ At this rate, Itachi is going to work himself into a heart attack. He wonders if he should put his mask back on, if that will make this easier.

“Well?”

“My apologies.” He says, and trails after him.

Aya tears herself from the spirit realm with nothing but her own will. Reverse-summons really take it out of her, but she’d caught a roaming signature over the mountainside, descending from a tall mountain range that she assumes to be in Kumo’s territory. Sasuke had told her that it was rocky and full of cliffs and mountains, when she’d thought to ask.

The signature also feels… distinctly like a Jinchuuriki. Different than the blonde human that Sasuke had called Naruto, and different from the strange red-haired boy that had paced in the desert. This one is decidedly more stable, and well that might bode well for that person, it definitely does not for them.

Unfortunately, Sasuke is still unconscious, leaning upright against a tree in what she assumes to be a very uncomfortable position. She isn’t good at reading human facial expressions, but his eyebrows are furrowed, and his mouth twisted in an angry slash. She flaps her wings angrily, and to no avail. He doesn’t even twitch.

There aren’t many trees on this ledge, so she’s forced onto a jagged pillar of rock. Her talons scratch uncomfortably against the stone.

_“Sasuke!”_ She snaps at his hair, pulls his ear, at his collar. All she manages to do is destabilize him. He slumps over onto the ground, still very much unconscious. _“Sasuke, wake up!”_

The signature draws closer. They’re definitely coming for them, then. A sensor-type, maybe? Sasuke had mentioned that humans weren’t as sensitive to chakra and chakra networks as Summons typically were, and that few of them could reliably track someone from the distances she could. Aya can’t think of a reason someone would purposefully track them down over such a great distance unless they wanted to fight, and based on Sasuke’s current situation, that isn’t going to be happening anytime soon. 

The figure draws closer still. She can’t bother Moya right now because it’s so hard for her to slip through to this dimension, so there’s no way to drag him away. She bats him in the face with a wing, to no avail.

Maybe they’ll take pity when they see how small and pathetic and unconscious he is. 

She stands in front of him and waits for the person to arrive. She isn't sure how long, because her concept of time is limited, but it's long enough to go stiff from the cold despite her natural predisposition against it.

Eventually, she can see the flare of chakra through the trees, and a woman with blonde hair tied back into a ponytail drops from the top of the rock shelf above them. 

_“Stop!”_ Aya cries. _“Don’t kill him! He’s tiny and half dead already!”_

The woman gives her a strange look. Oh, yeah, most humans can’t understand her.

“I’m not here to harm him.” She says, settling into a kneel. “My name is Yugito Nii. What are you called, little hawk?”

Aya pauses. _“Woah, you can understand me? I don’t have to speak in Sasuke’s stupid language!”_

She arches a golden brow, her dark eyes (not unlike the seals on the coast that Aya had been fascinated with) sliding to Sasuke’s still form.

“His name is Sasuke?”

_“...oops.”_

Sasuke was going to _kill_ her when he woke up. 

_“If you’re not here to kill him then why are you here?”_ She narrows her eyes suspiciously. 

“I’m the Jinchuuriki to the Nibi, she… almost never speaks to me directly, but she sensed his signature, and was… intrigued. When she sensed he was nearing Kumo, she insisted that I investigate.” She glances at Sasuke again. “I didn’t expect him to be so young.”

Aya gives her an appraising once over. _“What does the Nibi or whatever want with him?”_

“That, I don’t know. She isn’t the most forthcoming. She says that his chakra signature is… peculiar. Enough that she asked me to seek him out. I trust her judgement.” She peers past Aya’s wings to once again look at Sasuke. “Is there something wrong with him?”

_“He got messed up by some shark-guy and a pumpkin mask.”_

“A.... pumpkin mask?”

_“A cyclops with a pumpkin mask.”_ She clarifies. 

“Ahh… alright. Akatsuki members? I recall someone named Kisame being involved with them.”

_“I think so. They both wore those cloaks with the clouds on them.”_

Yugito nods. “Is he injured badly? I know some medical ninjutsu. Not a lot.”

_“I think it’s mostly his chakra, but something about his rib, too. Humans are different from hawks, so I don’t really know.”_ From what she can see, his chakra networks are damaged. General inflammation, reduced chakra flow. The coils around his left hand are burst. 

“I think I can fix the rib.” She offers, holding her hands up. “As a show of good will.”

Aya squints. _“...alright. Just don’t try anything, lady.”_

“I promise not to.” 

She leans over him, peeling past the coat drawing up the edge of his shirt to find the bruising, the green glow indicative of the chakra movement central to medical ninjutsu casting shadows on the ground.

_“Hey, how come you can understand me? I’ve never met a human who speaks our language - besides him.”_

“All Jinchuuriki can understand the language of Summons, unless they choose not to speak to us. The tailed beasts and spirit animals exist in the same realm.” Her brows lower in concentration. “Though I suppose it would be more accurate to say that the spirit realm is a… collection of pocket dimensions. Reality here is altered there. That’s how you can understand us, and we, you.”

Aya doesn’t understand most of those words, but she gets the gist. 

Yugito draws back. “I think he’s waking up-”

Sasuke sits upright quickly, drawing a sharp, panicked breath. Yugito startles as she looks directly into the eye of the Rinnegan.

Sasuke wakes to towering pillars of stone and a flat staircase of carved sandstone.

At its peak, staring down the steps, each rising to about his knee, the two-tails sits. Sasuke only indulges in a moment of disorientated panic, craning his neck to see the Nibi perched on a tall platform of stone, twin tails of fire lashing against the ground. He’s in the Jinchuuriki’s mindscape, where the essence of the tailed beast is confined. They always feel the same; each carries the same ethereal touch of surrealism. The shadows don’t line up if he looks closely, the stone beneath his feet feels no different from open air.

The two-tails flickers with blue fire, heterochromatic eyes of glowing green and yellow peering down at him.

“Little Uchiha.” She says, a touch of dry amusement in her voice, settling down onto her front paws. He takes this as permission to approach. Of all the tailed beasts, she’s definitely the most civil. “I suppose I should welcome you. I am Matatabi, and you?”

Her voice carries despite the distance. He ascends the stairs as quickly as he can. On either side of the pillar, the rock drops into a ravine so deep that it might never end. 

“Sasuke.”

“It’s a pleasure.”

He stares up at her. “How am I here?”

“You did this yourself.” She replies. “That eye of yours - how many dimensions do you think it can see?”

His hand flies instinctively to his left eye, hidden perpetually beneath a henge. 

“Do you mean I-”

“Yugito, my Jinchuuriki speaks to you now. She has healed your injuries. I had sensed your chakra from the other side of the mountains and requested that she make the journey to meet you. It is not every day that I meet someone who can slip so easily through dimensions. When you crossed the threshold of the spirit realm, I was first alerted to your presence here, but you were quite far away.”

“The spirit world?” He frowns. 

“Do you have no understanding of your own ability?” She tilts her head, her eyes, unwavering pools of light, cutting through him. The gravity of her presence weighs heavily upon his shoulders, but he’s been exposed to Kurama enough times to know that it’s less of a physical construct and more an abstract concept to be worked around. 

He says, perfectly flat, “It didn’t exactly come with an instruction manual.”

She bares her teeth in a smile. “A story for another time, then. I’m sure your circumstances are interesting. Where do you come from, Sasuke?”

He supposes ‘far away’ would be too vague. “An adjacent dimension.”

The flames surrounding her crackle and hiss. “For what purpose? An accident? Or was this intentional?”

Sasuke locks his jaw and refuses to wince beneath the intensity of her stare. “Yes and no. I was looking for an escape. My world is… gone. I wasn’t looking for any dimension in particular.”

The flames that constitute her ears twitch. “It appears they’re calling you back. Your chakra network is damaged. The blessed eye is putting much strain on them. It damages this connection.” Her head tilts. “Perhaps I can help with that. We may meet again later, Sasuke. I am eager to hear your stories.”

“Matatabi.” He hesitates. “Why did you want to see me?”

“I thought the answer was quite obvious.” Her tails swish. “Few have ever received a Rinnegan - fewer have been able to harness its power. You must be someone of consequence, to show up now. But we can speak more later. They call for you.”

Sasuke feels uneasy, off balance. “... thank you.”

She bows her head. 

The world of stone fades around him.

Itachi waits in the Hokage’s office. Surviving two wars has aged him. Exhaustion deepens the lines on his face, as if they could hold physical weight, and make him look all the older. In his chair, boxed in by towering walls of paperwork, his pipe abandoned on his desk, he looks like he could crumble to dust.

Itachi remains impassive. He must separate himself from this situation. 

He isn’t sure who he blames for the situation with the Uchiha - he certainly has more contempt for Danzo, but the Sandaime is just as much to blame for allowing the things that he does. Itachi finds it hard to be angry at him, but by now his bitterness has calcified into something permanent, and he doesn’t have the luxury of overlooking any of their faults when his brother’s life is on the line. 

When he speaks, it’s with clinical detachment: “Three people have confirmed age and gender, and the use of the Mangekyo suggests strong genetic ties to the Uchiha clan. No group has laid claim to him, no one can confirm where he came from. Naruto Uzumaki claimed that it was Sasuke on an unknown basis, but he seemed to believe that it was him. For these reasons, I ask for your permission to authorize a mission to pursue him.”

The Hokage sighs. “Itachi-”

A few years ago, Itachi would never have _dreamt_ of interrupting the Hokage, but matters concerning his brother are of the utmost importance, and he’s grown disillusioned with the position and its prestige. “I’m aware that it might not be him. In the case that it isn’t, I would still have the opportunity to gather information on him.”

He runs a hand over his face, massaging his temples. “Do you intend to go alone, or would you require a team?”

“I think it would be best if I went alone.” Large groups tended to attract attention, and he’s easily one of the most dangerous people in Konoha. He trusts his ability to hold his own in a match against a member of the Akatsuki. 

“And your route?”

“North.” He says. “Towards Lightning. Reports from the retrieval team and the testimony of Tsume Inuzuka indicate that’s where he was headed.”

The Hokage sighs heavily. “Then I’ll have an official mission filed.” He reaches for the stack of papers to his right. “Itachi, don’t make me regret this.”

Itachi falls into a deep bow, the kind that had been taught to perform since he was five. “I won’t.”

Itachi packs carefully and meticulously. He doesn’t inform either of his parents of the nature of this mission, nor does he mention the fact that he requested it himself. His father would use it as an excuse to accuse him of fixating, and he doesn’t want to get his mother’s hopes up in the case that it isn’t Sasuke. He desperately hopes it is, though, beyond the point of rationality. 

Shisui hangs in the doorway, and he knows him too well to be convinced.

“So,” He drawls. “I heard there was an Akatsuki attack. This spontaneous mission of yours wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would it?”

Itachi seals his rations in a summoning scroll, rolling it into the pocket of his pack.

“Why ask when you already know the answer?”

“Snippy.” Shisui falls back onto the bed, much to Itachi’s displeasure. He picks through the pile waiting to be packed. “If you’re heading North you’re gonna want something warmer. Chakra regulation can only get you so far.”

Itachi raises an eyebrow.

“Seriously! It gets cold as _shit_ up there. Those infiltration missions? Half of those prisons were up near Kumo and I nearly froze to death. Wait, I think I have something that might work.”

Shisui is still in his ANBU gear, having just returned from the last of his assignments. He procures a scroll from one of his pockets, and summons a thick, fur-lined coat.

“It’s from the Land of Wolves. Nice, right? That’s where the Inuzuka are from.”

Itachi stops to look at it. It looks high quality, something Shisui could probably afford if he didn’t have terrible money management skills. It’s also heavy enough that dragging it around all the time would definitely prove inefficient. “How did you get this?”

“Hey - don’t sound so surprised. I have money.”

Itachi just stares.

“Okay, so I didn’t buy it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have money, shut up, stop looking at me like that. I saved some upper-class merchant and I must’ve been shivering pretty hard because he insisted that I take it. It should work for you just fine.”

Itachi runs his fingers over the soft fur. “Thank you.”

He straightens, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Shisui replies, still lounging on his bed. “You’re stressed out ‘cause your missing kid brother might be fighting a terrorist organization, perfectly understandable.”

Itachi huffs a laugh. 

“Hey, ‘Tachi?”

“Yes?”

Shisui grins. “Do us all a favor and bring him back.”

Itachi lets his shoulders fall, relaxes the tension in his back, and returns his smile. “I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the fight scene seems rushed it's because it fought me the entire way so I sat down and just wrote it in one go, so if it's incoherent I apologize. I think Kisame's design is kind of hilarious and I like how he's part of a terrorist organization but he's generally pretty polite, I have no idea if I did his character justice but he was fun to write.
> 
> A wild Obito appears! 
> 
> Sasuke airs some grievances about Konoha! Honestly I'm really mad none of his genuine concerns were ever addressed at all. Everyone was just okay with the massacre huh. Everybody was cool with how they were treated I guess. Not this time! Sasuke has some valid concerns and they're being treated as such. Also angst because it's Sasuke. Originally, he was supposed to go back to Konoha at this point, but I decided that a one on one reunion with Itachi would be more impactful. As for the conversation with Matatabi, that was originally supposed to be with Kurama, except I remembered at this point Kurama hates everyone. I still wanted to flesh out the Rinnegan and dimension travel, though, so we're gonna explore that and some of the tailed beast lore next chapter.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Penumbra

Sasuke hugs his coat tighter around himself and huddles next to the fire. Yugito tosses kindling - tiny, spindly white branches they collected from the ground into the pit. The flames crackle and snap. Making a fire is one of the first lessons Uchiha children are taught - that they must understand what makes fire burn to wield it effectively. Sasuke was five when he learned how to make a fire, six when he learned how to breathe it. Burning pitch, sap, and pine straw causes excessive smoke, the improper stacking of wood causes fuel to smolder instead of burn. 

“So, you’ve been fighting the Akatsuki?” She starts mildly. 

Sasuke whirls around to glare at Aya.

_“I’m sorry!”_

He wonders what else she told her. He ducks his face into the fur lining of the coat and pulls his knees to his chest. “I’ve only fought two.”

She arches a brow. “That’s more than most people.”

Despite the cold, her clothing is relatively thin. Sasuke wonders if all Jinchuuriki run hot or if it has anything to do with the fact that Matatabi seems to be made of fire. 

“I’m sorry about Matatabi.” She leans back on her knees, the superheated air over the fire distorting her image. “I would say she isn’t always that… imposing, but unfortunately she’s always like that.” She pauses, her face scrunching up in a way that indicated Matatabi was telling her exactly what she thought of that observation. “She was very insistent I seek you out, on behalf of your… eye.” 

Sasuke scowls and drops his chin onto his knees, glaring through his bangs.

“You’ve met other Jinchuuriki, I assume? Most people are overwhelmed by them at first.”

Oh, he definitely was, but this is far from his first exposure.

“When you’re dealing with the Akatsuki you tend to run into them.” Is what he settles for. He glances at her hitai-ate. “You’re far out for a Kumo Shinobi.”

She arches an eyebrow. “You’re far out for a Konoha brat.”

He stiffens.

“It’s obvious you’ve had training.” She rifles through her bag for rations - dried strips of salted meat. “And you’re pretty obviously Uchiha. The village likes to keep tabs on its clans, especially ones with powerful kekkei genkai.”

He works his jaw. He assumes he must’ve been from Konoha at some point, but he’s certainly not working on behalf of them now. 

“Technically the village should be keeping a tighter leash on their Jinchuuriki.” She says. “But I’ve already demonstrated that captivity doesn’t suit me. After I got sealed I was shipped off to a monastery to the East mountains.” She scoffs. “They took the term _demon_ a little too seriously. Real awful place. Never does anything but snow, nothing to do but try not to freeze your ass off. You think this is bad, Konoha, you’ve never seen a snowstorm up North.” 

Sasuke snorts. The only time he’s ever been up there was on an errand on Orochimaru’s orders. He’d been sent to Yukigakure to scout out a potential channel for more kekkei genkai trafficking. He’d cut off the route immediately upon killing him, along with all other ones he could find. 

“I’ve never actually stepped foot in Kumogakure. Too scared to let me in after what happened with the monks.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“One of the monks went too far during training, I accidentally unleashed Matatabi and she killed everyone on the estate.” She says it casually, while offering him food. 

Well, Kumo at least had the common sense to keep the Jinchuuriki that had caused them massive property damage and loss of life out of their crowded capital city, unlike Konoha, which had caused Naruto nothing but grief in the long run.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“The villages are shit.” She drops another stick into the fire. “You’re too young to be fighting Akatsuki.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Obviously. Did Konoha send you out here?”

He winces. He knows that he’s going to have to confront this at some point, he just doesn’t know how. 

Yugito nods. “Your silence speaks for itself.”

It isn’t technically the truth, but age is inconsequential when compared to ability, to the village. If he were part of the village, he has no doubt that they would have sent him out. He thinks his hesitation to deny the issue is all he needs to say about Konoha. Because a village willing to destroy an entire clan and condemn a thirteen year old to a life of bloodshed and suffering wouldn’t hesitate to use someone like him the same way.

The fire wavers in a way that seems almost unnatural. He glances at Yugito, and her mouth curls up at the edge as the flame roars blue - the same deep cobalt as Matatabi’s flames.

He blinks and edges a bit closer. 

“Happens when I get mad.” She says, shoving the rest of the strip into her mouth. “Or when Matatabi’s mad.” She glances up to look at him. “I heard Uchiha can change the color of their fire. That true?”

He nods. Most of his memories before the massacre are hazy and stained with time, but there are a handful that he can recall with clarity. During one of his cousin’s weddings, a politically important one, he’s led to believe, between her and an outside clan head, there had been the usual tricks - making the fire in the goblets burn green and blue and pink. It was an indication of exceptional chakra control.

“Can you?”

He shakes his head. “I never learned.”

Yugito has a thoughtful look on her face. Aya stares, entranced, at the flames. _“Can you do other colors?”_

“I can’t. But…” She tilts her head, and the flames flicker green, and then yellow. Sasuke thinks of the black fire. “Can she do black?”

Yugito pauses, and then looks at him strangely. “... she says she has a story she wants me to tell.” She glances at him, and Aya flaps her wings. _“He doesn’t have enough chakra to talk to the big cat again!”_

Sasuke blanches. Calling a prehistoric supernatural being a 'big cat' probably isn’t the best idea, but Yugito laughs. 

“You’re right. Maybe tomorrow she’ll speak to you.” She arranges her bedroll and he follows suit. He shouldn’t idle here for so long. He’s here because of how close Kisame and Obito might be - though that’s a bit of a moot point considering Kamui can spit him out just about anywhere, and from that distance, if he wanted to kill Yugito he would’ve done it already. If Aya doesn’t sense anyone for a few days, then he’ll move on, but sticking close to the Jinchuuriki will eventually lead him to the Akatsuki. 

He takes to staring at the sky. In Konoha, he used to know all the constellations. In the summer, Itachi would lay outside with him in the grass and point them out as dragonflies darted around their heads. The ones out here are unfamiliar. 

“I’ll take first watch.” Yugito says.

Sasuke would like to argue simply on principle, because this is definitely a pity thing, but he _would_ benefit from some extra sleep, and the last thing he wants to do is pass out again. 

He rolls over, pillowing his head on his arm, and closes his eyes.

The next morning, Sukai yells at him for a good twenty minutes about being an irresponsible brat who can’t stay out of trouble to save his life and then promptly disappears. He spends the next hour on surveillance as they climb farther North. There’s apparently a Jinchuuriki roaming Iwa right now, which should make for an easy transition once he decides that it’s safe to move on. He plans to stay another two days at most, to collect himself and ensure that no Akatsuki are hiding in the territory, unless something urgent demands his attention. 

Once Aya has reiterated that _there’s no one in the area, Sasuke, chill out,_ Sasuke agrees to talk to Matatabi.

It doesn’t take much on either of their parts.

The ground morphs to rock and he stares up at Matatabi, again high above on her vertigo-inducing pillar of stone. Her tails swish, the cobalt flames distorting the air around her. He ascends the stairs and sits, cross legged, at her feet. Her flames, like Amaterasu’s, produce no heat. They’re cold flames, crafted for destruction. 

“You’ve returned.” She grins, settling down so they aren’t quite eye level - she’s still much too big for that - but enough that, should he be standing, he might reach her nose. “Welcome.”

He bows his head. While he has no particular reverence for the tailed beasts, especially Kurama, though that was more on behalf of his connection to Naruto, his mother had impressed on him the importance of showing respect to greater beings. “Yugito said you had questions for me.”

“I do.” She grins sideways. “Show me where you come from, little Uchiha.”

A simple genjutsu should suffice. He shows her the end of the world. He hesitates over the images of Naruto and Sakura behind him for a beat too long, and he feels her low rumble of apology down his spine. He details the war - Edo Tensei, the tailed beasts, Obito and Madara.

“So the Akatsuki bring about the end of the world…” She muses. “And you come from a branch dimension. This is troubling.”

“Branch dimension?”

“Your old dimension and this one have very little space between them - it is why you were able to reach it so quickly. Branch dimensions are very historically similar, up until a minor point of divergence.”

Sasuke frowns. “So up until that point, everything is the same?”

“Indeed.” She bares her teeth. “Your childhood would be identical, as would everyone you met, up until then.”

Sasuke pauses, and resists the urge to bite his lip. “The Uchiha weren’t massacred here.”

“That is the divergence, yes. Everything before that is essentially the same.”

Does that mean - does that mean they really _are_ the same? Does that really mean that the people that he lost are still _his?_

Matatabi watches him with strange, jewel-toned eyes. “You are concerned.”

“I’m not supposed to be here.” His voice is flat. This must be a mistake - twice the world has failed to kill him, now. He must be breaking some natural order. 

She has the gall to _chuckle._ “How can that be, when you have the very capability of moving between dimensions?”

He startles.

“Does the Rinnegan not grant you the ability to do so? If it weren’t supposed to be used, why would it exist within natural law?”

“I saw a man reanimate an army of corpses.” Sasuke says, equally flat, but more abrasive. 

“If it exists, it is within the natural boundaries of the world.” She persists. “Your Rinnegan functions to pierce the fabric between realities. If it exists it is to serve a purpose, to claim that the purpose the tool serves is fundamentally wrong is meaningless. If this dimension has not collapsed around you, it has welcomed you. This world is adaptable, it is not so fragile to succumb so easily.”

Sasuke frowns. “I - Naruto from this dimension had no reason to recognize me, but he did. Something went wrong.”

“So you are aware. Travel between dimensions is… messy. I exist in both this dimension and Yugito’s, but I can only do so with an anchor - her seal. There is always physical evidence of the other side.”

“Does this happen every time the Rinnegan is used to travel?”

“No. In my long existence, few have possessed it and fewer who used it to its full capacity, but you are… an abnormality. Tell me, do you remember your childhood here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Upon arriving in this world, and this body, you should be able to remember how you awoke here.”

“I don’t.” Unease settles in his stomach. 

“I am not an expert. Never have I had intimate connection with the inner workings of the Rinnegan, but I assume it has something to do with your chakra.” She leans forward, so blue flames sweep past him. They don’t burn. He holds his ground as she stares down at him, observing him. “There are… irregularities. I hesitate to call it a block, but… most who come to acquire the Rinnegan have their chakra pathways warped, but yours are inflamed. That’s likely a consequence of underdevelopment and age. The looping, though, is strange…”

She leans back, taking her flames with her.

“I have never seen something so peculiar. This body of yours is actively suppressing its memories - usually it would make integration easier, unless…” She pauses. “And your pathways are strange. The Mangekyo warps them, and the Rinnegan more so, but not in this pattern.”

He scowls. “What were you going to-?”

“Later. I may be able to help you.” She nudges him from her mindscape and he feels the sting of his chakra network more potently. “Return, the hawks wish for your attention.”

Before he has the chance to protest, he’s forcefully ejected from the mindscape and finds himself sprawled on the crass, Aya standing on his chest. _“So how’d it go?”_

Sukai, who apparently has returned just to antagonize him, bats him with a wing. _“Is she going to fix you?”_

Sasuke _really_ wishes Yugito couldn’t understand them, because she looks vaguely amused by this. 

He just lets his head thump back against the ground.

The Chunin exams are in two days and Naruto would be a lot more excited if it weren’t for the strange sense of deja vu plaguing his every waking moment. Everytime he looks at his team he expects to see someone else there, and he’s not sure who, or why, because his team is perfectly fine and Ino is pretty great and Sakura is really cool and Kakashi is really lazy and late all the time but he also does that lightning thing with his hand, which he likes. 

But he feels like something is _missing._ Something _big,_ like someone tore a hole out of his side. The encounter with the boy he knows to be Sasuke, though he isn’t sure how or why, hasn’t faded from his mind at all. 

Kakashi had taken their latest mission disaster (and their pileup is really starting to get concerning. They’ve already garnered a bit of a reputation for their bad luck) to teach them the basics of healing. Kakashi definitely isn’t a healer, but he does know how to make sure he doesn’t bleed to death in the field. 

Ino takes to it in an instant. 

“When I was your age, there was always a specialized medic in the team.” He explains, guiding Ino through the next set of seals. While Sakura had the chakra control for it, she didn’t have the temperament. Something about her chakra nature being incompatible. Naruto, of course, with his extensive chakra and infamously terrible chakra control, never stood a chance. 

“Yeah.” Naruto rolls back on his heels, thoroughly bored. “But that was _ages_ ago.”

“Naruto, how old do you think I am?”

He squints. “I dunno. You have white hair so… maybe like. Forty?”

Sakura snorts into her hand. Ino loses concentration long enough to start giggling.

Kakashi leans back, clutching his chest, feigning hurt. “When did my cute little students get so mean?”

“Yeah, Kakashi-sensei.” Ino agrees, returning to her motions. “You’re practically ancient.”

“I’m _twenty six.”_ He groans. “I never should’ve left ANBU.” 

_“Old.”_ Naruto says, and turns to lean over the railing. “What’re the Chunin exams like, anyways? You took them, didn’t you?”

“Ahh, we’re really not allowed to say. It changes, anyways.”

Sakura turns a shrewd eye his way. “But the things you were teaching us - the hand to hand combat and the survival training and this, now - it’s gonna be on the test, isn’t it?”

“Good eye, Sakura.” He ruffles her hair, and she beams. “Mm, alright. I think that’s enough for today. Ino, if you’re interested, I can probably get you a shift at the hospital.” 

She practically beams at the opportunity.

“You three try to get some rest. No training tomorrow. Remember, you need to be at the gates by eight, alright?”

Naruto hums absentmindedly at the water. Kakashi disappears in a cloud of smoke, and as his teammates are beginning to walk away, he says, “Do you think we can walk on water too?”

Sakura pauses, curious. “What do you mean?”

“Like, if we can walk up trees, shouldn’t we be able to walk on the water too?” It feels right. It feels familiar. He hops over the railing, and Sakura and Ino are shouting at him, but he doesn’t know why they’re worried because he’s done this a thousand times. In the back of his head he can hear the dull roar of a waterfall that should be there but definitely isn’t, and he’s halfway to the water when he realizes _he’s never done this before and what the hell is wrong with him?_

He summons chakra to his feet and rolls it back onto his heels but it only buys him a second before he crashes beneath the surface.

He drags himself to the bank, kicking against the current. 

“That was a mistake.” He says, flopping on the ground face first.

“Did you just _fling yourself off the bridge?”_ Sakura screeches. _“Why would you do that?”_

“I mean, I don’t think _that_ was the approach to take but there was that second there when he kind of stuck.”

Naruto picks his face off the ground, smiling.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was mostly stupid.”

He pouts. 

“So how do we do it?”

Naruto scratches the nape of his neck. “Uh, well I don’t really… know.”

The girls look _thoroughly_ unimpressed by this. 

“Well…” Ino grabs his wrist and hauls him up. “Let’s go figure it out, then.”

“What?” Sakura glares dubiously at the water. “In these clothes?”

“You’ll probably get it on your first try anyways and Naruto is already soaked.” Ino points out, to which Sakura glowers. “Also if you don’t you’re a _coward.”_

Sakura huffs.

Fifteen minutes later and Sakura still refuses to get in the water, Ino and Naruto are both soaking wet and it’s terrible, but she’s getting the hang of it. Moving is a little difficult, but she can stand on the surface of the water. Naruto, meanwhile, is still submerged and maybe drowning a little bit. She nudges him. He’s probably fine.

She spins around (cautious of her footing) and pumps her hands in the air. “Whooh!” 

Sakura’s eyes go a little wide. 

“Look! I did it!” Sakura is still staring. “What, forehead? You jealous?”

Sakura takes her opportunity to shoot up the bank and tackle them both into the water. Ino yelps and ends up grabbing a fistful of Naruto’s jacket and drags all three of them into the shallows. Sakura rolls off of her and Naruto gasps for air. The water is only knee-high here, and now all _three_ of them are soaked and covered in mud.

“What’d you do that for?” Naruto squawks.

Sakura laughs, stands up, and attempts to balance. She _does_ get it on her first try, and Ino is a little jealous, but she’s mostly happy.

“C’mon, Naruto. Now it’s your turn.”

They both yawk him up and he grumbles about it even though this was his idea and it’s definitely his fault, while they both try and fail to give him tips to make it easier. When he finally manages to stand upright, the three of them cheer so loud they disturb a passing neighbor. 

They’re just slogging their way back to the bank, mostly dried by the late afternoon sun and wobbling on unsteady legs, when Kakashi reappears. 

He shakes his head. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes. Your signatures didn’t move for two hours and you were figuring out how to walk on water. My students are so talented!”

“Hell yeah we are!” Naruto yells, and collapses on the ground. 

Kakashi huffs a laugh. “Alright you three. Time to go.”

Ino takes Sakura’s offered hand and pulls herself off the ground before starting after them.

“Adjust your signs - you’re putting too much pressure on your wrist.”

Determination creases behind his brows as he adjusts based on her advice. The fire comes easier. 

“You have to make it hotter.”

She demonstrates, summoning a ball of fire that flickers between her hands - first blue, and then green. “It depends on heat. Chakra nature might have something to do with it, too.”

His grandparents were blacksmiths. They were able to easily modify the heat of their fire to suit the instrument or trinket they were forging. Sasuke’s bedroom walls used to be stacked with little figurines and baubles. Little figures holding swords and sculpted iron leaves. His mother’s favorite sword was a wedding gift forged by his father with his grandmother’s help. The blade is one of their finer works. Sasuke wonders if she still has it. In that vein, Itachi is probably the worst blacksmith the clan has ever produced, but for Sasuke's fifth birthday he had their grandparents make a dragonfly perched on a branch after he'd seen his fascination with them. 

He’s never had to worry about the heat of his fire - the farthest that concern ever extended to was _is it hot enough to burn?_

Evidently, pouring more chakra into it doesn’t make a difference, because Yugito snaps at him when he tries it. 

“You mold it.” She corrects. “Don’t rely on the Sharingan. You can do it without it.”

He grumbles as he changes the shape of his hand, and then, green tongues of fire flicker at the edges. 

“There.” She smiles. “You’ve got the basics.”

He pauses to take a breath. She settles down on a rock. “It’s a cheap parlor trick, but it’s a good distraction.”

He scoffs.

“Matatabi wants me to ask you if you have a handle on temperature regulation. She says the Uchiha are blacksmiths?” She pauses. “That makes sense, if you come from Iwa.”

Konoha would have them believe that they were nothing but a mercenary group scattered across the continent before settling in the village, but Sasuke knows that they came from Iwa first. It’s stored in the scrolls in the meeting place, along with the secrets of the Mangekyo, that they first lived in the upper mountain ranges of Stone, bordering Steel, and made great use of the mineral deposits there. Blacksmithing is still a staple of the clan, or it should be, if they’re still around, but nowhere near as prominent in the culture as it was then. 

“Hn.”

“They have some in Kumo. Did you ever learn how?”

“Too young.” 

“Ah.”

She adjusts her position. "Matatabi comes from those mountains, too. Has all sorts of stories."

Sasuke pauses. "There's a legend that explains why we made a covenant with cat summons." He glances at her out of the corner of his eye. "I never thought it had any merit."

"She likes her legends. All she ever talks about." She hesitates, tilting her head as she listens to whatever she has to say. “She wants to try again.”

“So soon?” He asks without looking up, but the curved slope of his shoulders suggests compliance. “What does she want?”

“She says she might have a solution to the issue with your chakra.” She’s watching him curiously. “Does it have to do with the eye?”

He drags himself upright. What isn’t? 

“My chakra pathways are fucked.”

Yugito snorts. “She wants to talk again.”

He sighs, and activates the Sharingan again. 

Matatabi paces the length of stone. “Your chakra network needs to be corrected if you plan to survive for long.”

Sasuke didn’t think it was that severe, but this level of exhaustion has been unprecedented. He had chalked it up to using the Mangekyo in this body, which was probably true on some level, but it seemed that wasn’t quite the case. “It wasn’t a problem before.”

“Tearing the fabric of reality tends to have unforeseen complications.” She replies dryly, hissing sparks. “If you had been a bit more careful then perhaps you wouldn’t be in this situation, though,” Her tails lash. “Given the circumstances, this was unavoidable.” 

She turns to look at him. “You haven’t reconciled with this body. Ripping your consciousness back into an eleven year old body has consequences for the physiological nature of the Mangekyo and the Rinnegan. Both of them have… mental components as well as physical, and now you’re missing parts of both. The Rinnegan was molded to your older body, it isn’t adjusted to this one. You’re going to have to redirect your chakra. There’s a developing coil around the Rinnegan now feeding into it. You’ll have to sacrifice some autonomy concerning the abilities of the Rinnegan, but it would be too taxing to use extensively now regardless. It should lessen the chakra exhaustion and the damage to the pathways.”

Sasuke frowns. Regulating chakra through already existing pathways was easy enough, but keeping chakra from draining into the Rinnegan was going to be difficult. 

“Part of a Jinchuuriki’s seal focuses on the same technical aspect of chakra regulation.” She says. “If the seal were modified, this aspect would certainly be transferable.”

Sasuke frowns. Deconstructing seals is a dangerous undertaking. When combining seals together to make more intricate ones, one could never predict how either would be affected. She carves the symbol into the ground, 

“This is the seal. Commit it to memory. If you have doubts, find someone with more experience.”

He opens his mouth, and then her ears prick, swivelling back. He frowns and climbs to his feet.

“What is it?”

“Something strange…” 

The world fades around him. The hard stone becomes dirt, the peripheral mountains tall, reedy trees. The chill of the air comes back to him, and at some point he must’ve been knocked on his back. Sukai is pulling at his hair while Aya flaps her wings. Yugito leans over him.

“What-?”

“The hawks-” She starts.

_“There are two people approaching from the West!”_

Sasuke sits upright abruptly, “What?”

“Matatabi is uneasy.” Yugito says, her mouth pinched into a frown. “She senses something... vile.”

“ _It is powerful, and… inhuman.”_ Aya says. 

“Inhuman?”

He shakes himself from his thoughts. If it was enough to rattle Matatabi then something is wrong. He jumps to his feet. “How close? Where are the both of them?” If Obito was among them, which he’s led to believe he is, if Aya didn’t notice them approaching before this point, then there’s going to be problems. 

_“They… aren’t moving right now.”_

“How soon did you catch it?”

“A couple of minutes ago.” Yugito says. “She started acting out.”

_“It came out of nowhere! Like the guy from before!”_

Sasuke grits his teeth. That’s hardly encouraging. “You’re sure?”

_“Yes!”_

He exhales through his teeth and stares at the forest behind them. They hadn't been travelling particularly fast, but they were already close to the border. It wouldn’t take long for Yugito to reach Lightning’s official border by herself, but the problem with ground travel is that she’s open to attack if anyone can just teleport to her. In the air, though, she might stand more of a chance, and once she’s within their borders, she’ll be much less open to attack.

Yugito understands his intentions immediately. 

She balks at him. “You can’t seriously be considering fighting them by _yourself.”_

Sasuke deliberates. There’s something about Obito that he can’t put his finger on, and he could warp into the clearing any second now.

“I can buy you time.” He says instead. “The border isn’t far. Moya can drop you off and then come back for me. She can be there in less than five minutes. I can hold off for that long.”

“Sasuke-”

“They can’t find you. If they do, they’ll rip Matatabi out of you and you’ll die.”

Her mouth twists. “This still isn’t-”

_“It’s doing something weird.”_ Aya warns. _“One of them, it’s-”_ Her eyes narrow. _“Melting.”_

“... _what?”_

She twitches. _“The signature… dissolved. There’s only one now, and he’s still standing there.”_

Yugito looks as horribly alarmed as he feels. He summons Moya without a second thought.

“If there’s only one it should be fine.” He says. Unease churns in his stomach. She hadn't spoken about Obito that way - she’d described his signature as something closer to fleeting, something that seemed like it would be blown into the wind like dandelion fluff. This one has significantly darker connotations, and Sasuke is starting to think that it was Zetsu instead, which is the only one that might be worse than Obito.

“You can’t-”

“I can.” He snaps. “I shouldn’t need to tell you that if they get the tailed beasts, everyone dies.”

And he’s seen enough of that for a lifetime. 

“You said Moya’s coming back?” She stares at him with unsettlingly dark eyes, ringed with supernatural blue. Matatabi is watching too. 

He nods sharply. “Yes. Now get out of here before they decide to get closer.”

She only glares at him a second longer. “Fine.” She snaps. “But if you don’t come back I’m looking for you.” She slides onto Moya’s back. “Don’t get killed, Konoha.”

Sasuke glances over his shoulder. “You too.”

He activates the Sharingan, creeping towards the woods.

“Aya, where are they now?”

_“He’s… moving closer. I think the other one is gone now.”_

He braces himself. If he waits, that will buy the both of them more time. Fighting in open space might be better until he figures out who exactly he’s fighting. Aya hasn’t met anyone outside of Deidara, who’s dead anyways, Obito and Kisame, so she wouldn’t be able to recognize any of the other ones. 

Aya startles. _“Wait.”_

“What now?”

_“I mean, he’s still coming closer, but, he-”_

Whatever she’s going to say next is cut off by the sharp snap of twigs. Sasuke feels the dip in ambient chakra as their traps are systematically disabled. He hadn't intended them to really damage any Akatsuki member that happened upon them, that was why they still kept watch at night, but they would still indicate if someone breached perimeter, and those extra few seconds of awareness could be life saving.

There’s a figure at the edge of the trees, hidden in the higher branches, and Sasuke waits in thick anticipation. How far is Moya now? 

_“Sasuke-”_

The figure drops down from the trees, and Sasuke’s breath catches and it feels like his throat is closing up, like he’s suffocating. The figure slowly takes the mask - a Weasel, Sasuke thinks, somewhat hysterically - to his belt. 

Itachi stares back at him, younger than he was in his memory, face unmarred by blood. The weight of years and the knowledge of what Konoha had him do is absent on his face - it’s more expressive, in that way. But he’s the same. The shape of his face, his eyes, his hair, is all identical. And he’s here.

“Sasuke…” Itachi breathes.

His hands are shaking. His mouth is full of lead. For a terrifying moment he has to wonder, _do you remember? Would you still welcome me back if you could?_ Before he steps forward. Disbelief is etched onto his face, and he hesitates. 

“You-” He glances over his shoulder, at Aya, silent, for once, behind him into the forest. “How are you-?”

“You’re alive.” His voice _trembles._

He moves before he registers it. Itachi is looking at him with wide eyes, like he’s the one seeing ghosts and not the other way around. For a second he wonders if this Itachi will disappear too, when he finally reaches him. 

He flings his arms around him and buries his face in his chest, and feels him inhale sharply, before he laughs, choked, and hugs him back.

“You’re _alive.”_ He says into his hair.

Sasuke tightens his hold at the small of his back, still not entirely sure this is real. But Itachi is _here_ and he's _alive_ and Sasuke can _still save him._

Itachi is smiling, and for a second there's a hard pressure behind his eyes that he dismisses on reflex.

_(I'll always love you, no matter what)._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! They've reunited! And to think it only took me 50k words. He's definitely gonna have some questions and Sasuke is definitely not going to answer them in any productive way. I took some liberties with Yugito's character since we see her so little, but based on her own mistreatment I figured that'd be a good platform for Sasuke to be able to freely air some dislike for Konoha, and the Shinobi system in general really. As for the Matatabi mythology I just wanted to parallel some weird similarities. Like, the closer I look the weirder it gets. I just thought it was cool that she was a cat (like the Uchiha summons) and that she had black fire. Also I love writing Kakashi he's so lame. Gets bullied by 11yos. Love his dumb ass. 
> 
> I feel like I should address the issue with Kaguya. That ending was 100% terrible and I hate it. Like zombie army? Yeah. You built it up, I'll bite. Madara? Fantastic villain, believable, kinda hilarious. Aliens from the moon??? That's where I draw the line. Like yeah sure I'll get behind the Sage of 6 paths but the Kaguya twist added nothing to the plot. Madara should've been the main villain because blaming every problem that the Shinobi caused on an ancient alien chakra goddess retroactively ruins everything the series was trying to be. Thematically she ruins everything and there was kinda no reason for her to be there other then 'Kishi made Madara too strong and needed a way out'. For these reasons, I'm going to try and work my way around including her in the story because she invalidates many of the central issues and characters. So to clarify, Madara ended the world, not Kaguya. Sasuke and co don't know about Kaguya. I'm going to try to keep Madara the main villain for these reasons and also because I completely neglected her from the story planning.
> 
> Sorry for the rant lol. What did you guys think of Kaguya? I'm curious. As always thanks for reading :)


	9. Procyon

Itachi holds his brother’s face in his hands. Not so small as he remembers, but still small enough that he has to look down to see him. Dark, unruly hair tied back that looks like it hasn’t met a brush in ages, stress lines around the eyes, mouth twisted as he stares up with big black eyes like he doesn’t know what to do. 

One eye, anyway. The other, mostly hidden behind overgrown bangs, looks strange, almost _purple,_ if he didn’t know better-

“Where have you _been?_ ” He looks him over for obvious injuries. Some scabbed over cuts on his neck, old scarring around the fingers locked around his wrists with enough force to bruise. He looks fine, other than the clear exhaustion, but he hasn’t quite got a handle on the strange, euphoric panic pounding in his head. His brother is alive and he has no idea how, he has no idea how he can be here, no idea how he survived fighting the Akatsuki on his own, no idea how he got the _Mangekyo_ of all things. “What _happened_ to you? How-” He bites down on his tongue.

Sasuke, his little brother who is most definitely _alive_ despite what everyone told him, who’s right in front of him, wrestles out of his grip, “I-”

He turns as the hawk - his Summon - makes a strange trilling sound. It’s rather small, resembling a peregrine. 

“Shit…” He hisses. “Chiha-”

The little hawk makes another noise, and he sighs, before turning to face him again. He stares straight through him even without the help of the Sharingan that Itachi doesn’t know how he got. He had been only five when he had disappeared, much too young to shoulder the weight of the clan’s kekkei genkai. He hesitates, his mouth pulling taut around the edges before it smooths out, but Itachi knows what to look for in the creases of his eyes, the tension around his mouth, the way his hands are trembling at his sides. 

_What happened to you?_ Itachi thinks.

“Chiha, go tell Yugito that we’re fine.” The hawk is in the air in a second, a quick snap of its wings sending it hurtling over the rise of trees and rock in the distance. Sasuke turns back to look at him, and he seems so different from the one he remembers - but, of course, that was to be expected. It’s been almost seven years, after all. Itachi’s missed more of his life than he’s been present. 

He holds himself stiff and taut, ready to flee at a moment's notice, swimming in a coat a few sizes too big. A sword hangs from his hip. 

“Sasuke, what’s going on? Where have you been? How are you-?” There are too many questions to ask that he can’t even think of what to say. He didn’t think far ahead enough - he hadn't been able to conceptualize this moment in his mind. 

He grimaces, and then takes a step back towards the campsite, before turning and collapsing down next to the fire. Itachi sits opposite him, leaning forward on his knees. This Sasuke doesn’t act the same way as the one that disappeared - reserved and withdrawn, flighty. Wary of touch. There’s something old and haunted in his eyes. 

The wind pushes his hair out of his face, and Itachi stiffens when he sees the eye, and Sasuke realizes at the exact same sign. 

_“Sasuke-”_

His mouth twists, and he shoves his hair back with his fingers, revealing what can only be the Rinnegan. He’s only ever seen it on textbook pages, crinkled with age, borrowed from the library in the brief instances he finds himself with spare time. He’s only heard about it in passing, in chunks of text depicting ancient customs and religions. Only there is there evidence of the Rinnegan - the blessed eye, the bearing of legend. 

“I don’t-” His words come out all at once, like a long breath, hinging on a certain desperate panic that makes his chest ache. “I-”

And Itachi is staring that feeling in the face right now, so he reaches out, but isn’t sure how to proceed. The gesture is enough, though, it seems, because his shoulders lower a fraction. 

“Can you start from the beginning?”

He sees the deliberation on his face. He’s waited seven years for this, he can wait a few more minutes.

“Two months ago I woke up in the forest near Toudaka, between Earth and Wind. My hawks - my summons, they." He cuts himself off sharply, trying to collect his thoughts. "I sent them out so I had a better idea of what was happening. I knew that there was Jinchuuriki in Suna. I thought they might have an idea of what was going on with my eye. After that, it was more important to deal with the Akatsuki. My hawks can sense chakra, that's how I've been tracking them. I fought the next one in Steam - the ones that were trying to kill Naruto. Then I travelled North because of proximity. I don’t remember how I got here. I don’t remember anything before that.”

“You don’t… remember?” There’s nothing like the cold horror worming its way into his gut.

“Before that, I do.” He’s quick to correct. “But not-”

“After you were kidnapped.”

He stiffens. “... yeah.” He lets that ring in the air for a minute. “I woke up with… this. Matatabi said it had something to do with my chakra and… my eye.”

Itachi flicks his Sharingan on, and is immediately confronted with the convoluted _mess_ that constitutes his brother’s chakra network. A knotted tangle of misplaced coils and inflamed pathways, raw from overexertion. One in his hand is burst, another out of place beneath the ribs. Most peculiar, though, is the absolute snarled mess of a developing coil behind his left eye. Behind the Rinnegan. Behind the eye of legend that he shouldn’t conceivably have. The more pressing issue, however, is the fact that this level of chakra exhaustion and misplacement would warrant immediate treatment at a hospital. Itachi doesn’t even know how he’s _alive._

“She said that my body is… suppressing the memories.”

“So it’s internal? No one did it to you with any sort of seal?” If Danzo can manage a silencing seal, he can probably manage something to induce amnesia just as easily. 

He pulls his knees up slowly, even as his voice stays mostly flat, if a little shaky. “She called it a block.”

Itachi takes a moment to digest that. “So you don’t remember how you got the Mangekyo, or…”

He tenses even more, if it’s possible. The clan will demand to know how he acquired it. If he has nothing to tell him, they might suspect he’s lying. Itachi doesn’t think he is - he doesn’t know why he _would_ be lying, not unless he felt that he couldn’t tell the truth. Danzo’s influence? If he didn’t remember who had taken him he couldn’t use it against Danzo, but if there was a silencing seal placed on him… but that didn’t make sense either. There was no way Danzo would’ve let someone with a _Rinnegan_ slip through his fingers. So how had he ended up all the way in Toudaka? 

“I watched someone I love die, I assume.” It’s blank. “Isn’t that how everyone gets it?”

The sheer exhausted bleakness of his voice is startling to hear. He wants to pry deeper, but he said he doesn’t remember and if nothing else, Itachi wants to trust him. He goes for an unceremonious subject change instead. 

“Matatabi is the tailed beast?”

He ducks his head down in a nod. “Yugito is her Jinchuuriki. She was with me when you showed up. We thought you were… Akatsuki.” His eyes flick back to the forest. “Did you see anyone else there? Specifically either someone with an orange mask or something that would’ve looked like a plant-human hybrid?”

Itachi is… very unsure of how to interpret that. “I didn’t see anyone.” He pauses. That isn’t to say he didn’t sense anything, though. There was that trickle of unease as he had leapt between the branches, seeking out the burning light of the Jinchuuriki which almost entirely dwarfed the candlelight flicker of chakra beside it. The thick atmosphere of dread, like someone was watching him. “There was someone there, though. Or, something.”

Sasuke grimaces. “Both of them are Akatsuki.” 

“The Akatsuki.” Itachi says, his voice dry, and Sasuke winces the same way he always does when he’s caught. “How did you get to fighting them?”

“I see that hasn’t changed.” He mumbles, which Itachi chooses to ignore. “... the Rinnegan is connected to the tailed beasts. I thought if I could find them then I could figure out what was going on. I was close to Suna so I went there, and it just happened to be at the same time one showed up. He said he was after the Jinchuuriki. They want to end the world.”

Itachi doesn’t like _any_ of this. He doesn’t like the way his younger brother looks so wrung out, he doesn’t like how he’s been fighting the Akatsuki with no help, far away, when they had no idea he was even alive. He doesn’t like the look in his eyes. “How do you know?”

Sasuke still won’t look at him, but his voice is dry when he talks. “Haven’t you heard the myths?”

“Myths?” Itachi isn’t particularly superstitious, and it probably shows in his tone. Occasionally he’ll sit by the shrine on the Naka river, but he never brings offerings or flowers like his mother does. He’s never paid much heed to any of them in general, really. He’d been disillusioned with most things after the war - he had no interest in religion or culture or becoming clan head or most aspects of Shinobi life, really, divorced from meaningful interpersonal relationships which would’ve left him stranded in the perfect level of isolation for Danzo to manipulate. 

“That’s blasphemous, ‘Tachi.” It’s half mumbled into his knees, but for a second he sounds identical to the kid he remembers. “The Rinnegan exists, doesn’t it?”

And, well, Itachi doesn’t really have anything to say to that point.

“And what myth would that be?”

“Ten-tails.”

Itachi pauses. “The Jubi? That’s what you think they’re after?”

“That _is_ what they’re after. I sent Chiha for reconnaissance-”

“Chiha!” The little hawk squeaks. Sasuke turns to glare down at her. “Oh, so now you’re feeling talkative.”

She puffs up indignantly. “Your language is _stupid_ and _terrible._ ” She huffs. “It’s so… _big._ Too many words.”

He flicks her beak when she starts biting his sleeve. “Be civil.” He says, flat. “We have company.”

“You didn’t care when it was Yugito! It’s just because he’s your brother, isn’t it!”

“You’re a disgrace.” He says, offering an arm for her to perch on. “A nuisance.”

She flaps a wing at him, roughly imitating a wave in a manner so lively he’s worried she’ll knock herself off his arm. “Hello brother of Sasuke! I am called Aya! Your brother is very strong! Your coven should be proud!”

“Humans don’t have covens.” Sasuke replies, smoothing a hand down her feathers. 

“Nice to meet you.” Itachi says mildly, and he can’t decide whether or not this situation is funny. The crows don’t… _speak_ so much as they _show._ Visual communication is more important to them than verbal. Speaking of which, he’s due to contact the Sandaime soon, but he feels he should contact their family first. “So you have hawk summons.”

He nods, and some of the tension loosens. “I sent one to Konoha.” He pauses. "You already met her."

“Sukai.” Aya chimes in helpfully. 

Sasuke glances up at the slate gray sky. Rain is possible during the warmer seasons, even if it’s still unlikely. Given the temperature, Itachi is willing to bet that they’ll yield snow. 

“We should move.” He says. “Snowstorms here are bad. We can talk on the way.”

He begins to roll up his bedroll, kicking dirt onto the embers of the firepit. Aya hops after him, commenting in their shared language as he gathers up the wire from the trees and wraps it back onto its spool clipped to his belt. 

It isn’t until he’s packed, belongings contained within a single pack on his shoulders, turned towards the west, that Itachi falters.

“Where are we going?”

“To Iwa.” He says, glancing over his shoulder, as if for permission. “There’s a Jinchuuriki there and Zetsu is too close. I can’t - I can’t go back to Konoha right now. Not. Not yet. Not until the Akatsuki are taken care of.”

Itachi would like to say that the chakra network requires some form of immediate care - he knows that he should put up a fight, that they should talk about this more, that they should talk, but behind the steely resolve is a pleading, and while the last thing he wants to do is compromise his health, he looks perfectly fine. Fine enough to venture a hike down the mountainside, when his condition should have him in a hospital bed. Maybe it's the raw desperation creeping into his tone, or the expression on his face, that makes him cave. 

And he’s always been willing to do anything for him, so.

“Alright.” He says. “Then I’m going with you.”

He watches some of the hard edges melt away as the corner of his mouth tips up. He turns away quickly, though, starting down the steep path. 

The knot of tension in his chest eases. He’s finally meeting his brother again after so long, and he’s going to have to relearn his mannerisms again. Itachi walks after him, considerate of his long stride. 

He has quite a lot of time to make up for, after all. 

The morning of the Chunin exams, Naruto wakes up with the last fragments of a nightmare caught on his eyelashes. His breathing is loud and ragged in his ears, but nothing like the wet, bloody rasp it was in his sleep, the coppery taste of blood in his throat as he coughed through the smoke, the sky bright, blood red. He remembers distinctly a hand clasped around his wrist, the blurry image of a boy with black hair leaning over him. He doesn’t remember anything else, and he does his best to shake it off. By the time he’s slid off the edge of the bed, it’s already fading, the cold floor leeching away the last of his grogginess and thrusting him without warning into the waking world. 

He glances at the clock. He can’t be late or they won’t let him in. He probably doesn’t have time for breakfast and he really doesn’t want to risk another spoiled milk situation. So he shoves his cereal box back in the cupboard and chucks the milk in the trash before shrugging his jacket on and tying his hitai-ate around his head. He runs out the door, nearly forgetting to lock it behind him (and then forgoing it entirely because last time he remembered to lock the door he forgot the key) and sprinting down the street. 

The second thing he doesn’t expect that day is both Ino and Sakura waiting at the gates, both with their hair cropped short. He skids to a stop, blinking at the both of them with wide eyes. 

Sakura’s hair falls neatly above her shoulders, and Ino’s is still long enough to be pulled back in a ponytail, but nowhere near as long as it had been before.

“Woah.” He says. 

“That’s all you have to say?” Ino raises an eyebrow. 

“How come you cut it?”

“I thought it would be more practical.” Sakura bounces back on her heels. “It’s a lot lighter. I was thinking about how Kakashi-sensei had us do that survival training,” The three of them wince at the mention of the disaster mission. “And what he said, so there’ll probably be something about that, and long hair is just harder to maintain even without surviving in the woods, so I figured it’d be better.”

“Yeah.” Ino puts a hand on her hip. “And she almost cried, so I got mine cut too, to make her feel better.”

“I did _not.”_ She jabs an elbow into her side, and Ino huffs. “C’mon. Let’s go register and scout out the other teams. I wanna see what our competition is.” She grabs them both by the wrists and drags them inside. 

The three of them are definitely the youngest competitors, that Sakura can see. Kakashi wasn’t lying when he said that fresh Genin usually weren’t up to the challenge. Shinobi from every village imaginable line the walls, reclining on the ground or speaking with their teams, and it seems like all of them are watching them. Word spreads fast, then, and with Naruto on their team, they’re probably going to attract enemies quick.

Ino firmly clamps her hand over Naruto’s mouth before he can scream and get them a target on their backs. 

“Watch out for Oto.” Ino says. “We don’t know anything about them.”

“We don’t know much about Suna either.” She points out. She really should’ve done more research when she had the chance. She and Ino had been spending afternoons at the library - but Kakashi had followed through for once and gotten Ino that shift at the hospital and so while they were lacking in the research department, at least they could be confident none of them were going to bleed out. In these exams, your survival was never a guarantee. Sakura is currently seizing up their competition - so far, she's identified Neji, dangerous for his Byakugan and ability to interfere with the chakra network. The most powerful of their techniques can render the target with irreparable damage to their chakra networks. The three from Otogakure seem rather dangerous, too, but mostly for their anonymity. She doesn't know what techniques they have to choose from. They aren't easily identifiable as any clan that would otherwise let her theorize - Oto is too genetically diverse for her to wager a guess based merely on appearance. 

A pair of eyes fixates on them. Sakura glances around, and finds Naruto conspicuously missing.

“... Ino? Where’d Naruto go?”

Ino scans the crowd and sighs.

“Fuck.”

If this weird red headed kid doesn’t quit staring at him, Naruto’s gonna kick his ass. He has a tattoo on his forehead, wrapped in Suna clothes, with bottle-green eyes that get sort of unnerving the longer he looks. He doesn’t see a hitai-ate, but the gourd on his back is more than telling, and it’s also significantly more eye-catching. Naruto squints dubiously at the cracked clay. 

“What do you want?” He crosses his arms. “Why’re you staring at me?”

He doesn’t even think he sees the kid _blink._

“You’re like me.” He says eventually, and Naruto suppresses a shudder. There’s a sudden weight in the air, and something deep in his gut sparks, like flames, like something is putting pressure on the seal on his stomach. 

“Uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Jinchuuriki.” He hisses the word like it’s something vile. Naruto stiffens.

“You’re - what? You’re a Jinchuuriki too? You?”

He doesn’t look offended by it. He doesn’t look like anything at all. “Shukaku says that you have a demon too.”

Naruto shuffles a step back. “I don’t know what you’re-” He’s used to denying. He went into this knowing that many were in opposition of Jinchuuriki participating in the exams - enough that there was almost a ban put on him, and this guy, he supposes. After the destruction the village had suffered twelve years ago, not everyone had but their grudges aside. It was always a question as to how he would react in any given situation, what stimuli triggered the release of the Kyubei, and after the incident in the Land of Waves the public weren’t entirely on board with his participation.

He wasn’t about to let that stop him, though. If he could just become Hokage then everyone would have to acknowledge him, and if he wants to do that it seems reasonable that he should become a Chunin first. 

“Naruto!” Ino and Sakura thankfully interrupt the awkward stare-off before it can get any more strange, and from the opposite end of the hallway a girl with her hair tied into buns approaches the red-haired boy. 

“You can’t just wander off without telling us.” Sakura hisses, and turns to glance up at the company. 

“I’m sorry for my brother’s behavior.” The girl bows. “We meant no harm.”

Naruto isn’t too sure her brother shares the same sentiment, with how he’s glaring. 

Ino blinks. “You’re Temari, aren’t you?”

Temari straightens. “... Yamanaka?”

“The heiress.” She smiles. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” 

Naruto leans closer to Sakura. “...what’s going on?”

“No idea.” She whispers back.

“This is my team, Naruto and Sakura.”

“This is Gaara.” She tilts her head towards him, who still hasn’t moved. Or blinked. Naruto isn’t sure that he even breathes. “We seem to have lost our third teammate, but I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.” She turns as a horde of Genin rush to enter the room. “It looks like it’s starting. We should go. It was nice meeting you.”

“You too!” Ino waves, and Temari waves politely back, and they start towards the door.

“What was that?” Sakura hisses. 

“Making allies.” Ino hisses back. “Maintaining diplomatic relationships is what clans do, billboard. She’s the Kazekage’s daughter, she's never _just_ here without some political motive. Clans are big on this stuff.”

“The Kazekage has kids?” Naruto asks. “Isn’t he, like… old?”

“The Sandaime has kids too, Naruto.” Ino sighs. Naruto looks affronted. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late.”

As they walk, silence fills the space between them. Sasuke hops from shale ledge to footpath, framed by carved limestone to form a crude railing so that the average tourist doesn’t plunge into the gorge at their side. They can go up and across the water this time for easier access to Iwa, which means it’ll be cold for quite some time. Iwa is known more for it’s dry, relatively mild climate, but the mountains it’s named for are always cold. Below, a thousand feet down into the canyon, thick fog is beginning to roll in from the thawing bay, so dense that he can barely see the dark green tips of pine trees. 

A piece of stone near where his foot ends crumbles and plummets into the gorge. He hears Itachi inhale sharply behind him.

“I’m fine.” He assures, glancing over his shoulder, but he does grab the railing, just to make him feel better.

This is surreal. His brother is alive. It’s like barbed wire in his throat when he thinks about it too deeply. That he’s choosing not to go home and chase after the Akatsuki with him, and based on what evidence? Sasuke had no way to prove that he really was amnesic, and Itachi had no reason to believe him. 

He pushes the warmth as far down as it will go and pulls himself up another crudely shaped step, hugging closer to the rock shelf. 

Overhead, Chiha circles, dark against the sun.

He whistles. 

She drops down beside them, adjusting her pace to match theirs. 

“Chiha.” He greets.

_“Yugito said, ‘I’ll kick your ass’, and also ‘good luck with your brother’. It is a very… contradicting statement. She also said Matatabi would tell the Iwa Jinchuuriki that you’re coming. Oh! And that if you need help with any of the other Jinchuuriki you know where to find her. Apparently Matatabi is well liked among the siblings.”_

Sasuke breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

She disappears in a burst of smoke, and he climbs to the next rock shelf.

_“Careful.”_ Itachi hisses as the shelf trembles. 

“I’m fine.” He insists, trying to breathe through the tight feeling in his chest, binding his ribs to his lungs. He digs blunt fingernails into the rock and he forces himself through another breath. “Once we get to Amado we can fly on Moya. At the border there’s a system of tunnels we can use to get into Iwa.” They’re technically Orochimaru’s tunnels, sealed away, and there’s no telling what could possibly be in them, but he’s confident in their ability to end the misery of whatever unfortunate monstrosity he was cooking up down there. He really hopes the configuration of tunnels is the same, but based on what he’s observed with the setup and layout of the prisons and betting pools, all the tunnels should be exactly as they are in his memory.

“Moya?”

“The biggest hawk.” He replies. “When we get to the end of this.”

They’re on the cusp of Lightning territory. They’ll set off seals if they venture any further East. The end of the canyon has a gorgeous view of Amado sea, which they can cut across to get back to Iwa. It also gives him the chance to scope out the prisons Orochimaru has there.

The path comes to an abrupt halt, fenced in by a tall metal railing. A metal plate melded to the pole helpfully explains the history of the lookout, with a brief summary of the war fought in the gorge below. Sasuke hops over the railing and hears Itachi almost have a heart attack.

He keeps his fingers locked firmly around the cold metal of the railing. 

“Sasuke-”

“Even if I fell Moya would catch me.” He replies as he feels the tug of summoning her. He can feel Itachi’s eyes on his back as Moya appears, her broad wings already unfurled to catch the wind. She glances for a moment at Itachi, her head tilted curiously to the side. _“Kin?”_

He hums and jumps onto her back, and gestures for him to follow.

“We need you to take us across Amado to Stone. Can you do that?”

_“Of course.”_ She replies, almost teasing. _“You need not worry about me.”_

By the time she starts moving, the wind has already swallowed his words.

As it so happens, Ino’s kekkei genkai is _perfect_ for the first round of the Chunin exams. She answered a fair bit of questions by herself, and combined with Sakura’s knowledge, the two of them could easily scrap together a passing score by themselves. The point of the test, however, was to facilitate cheating. So Ino borrows Sakura’s mind for a minute, and then transfers the information to Naruto’s paper. During the mysterious tenth question, Naruto stands up and screams at Ibiki for about five minutes straight and Ino covers her face and tries not to be seen. If nothing else, though, it _does_ inspire confidence among everyone left.

Ibiki passes them, and they trail out of the room. She finds her teammates immediately, hooking her arms around both of them and dragging towards something named so aptly as the forest of death. 

“Lovely name.” Sakura remarks dryly.

“Well, at least it isn’t misleading.” She looks disdainfully at the thirty foot high fencing, topped with swirls of barbed wire. A woman with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail stands in front of the gate. 

“Oh no.” Ino says. “That’s Anko.”

Sakura pauses. “What’s so bad about Anko?”

Ino grimaces. “You’ll see.”

Anko cheerfully prefaces her statement by explaining that the third round of the exams will be a six day survival exercise in which the objective is to obtain both a heaven and earth scroll and, without looking at the contents of either, deliver them to the tower on the other side of the forest, and, of course, that there’s a seventy five percent chance most of them will die. Ino can’t tell if she’s exaggerating or not, and the general look of the forest and the barbed wire fences isn't making that decision any easier, nor is the non-disclosure forms she passes out which basically assert that families can’t press charges if any of them die in there. 

“...huh.” Sakura says, squinting at the fine print. “Is death… common?”

“I mean. Look at it. It’s called the forest of death for a reason.” 

Naruto doesn’t seem at all bothered by the casual implications of their imminent demise. 

“You’re not concerned about this at all?” Ino raises an eyebrow. Really, she shouldn’t be surprised.

“Of course not! The three of us are gonna pass, you got it?” He jabs his pencil in her face before hastily signing his name at the bottom. 

Well, it’s decided, then. 

Ino sighs and signs her name.

There’s no way _this_ can go wrong. 

They stop to rest at the edge of Sound, on the rocky coast that drops into the sea. Foam crashes against the jutting teeth of stone, a narrow stretch of beach, as much sharp pebbles as sand. The waves lap at the shore, eroding away at the rock. He can feel Itachi’s eyes on his back. He’s been patient - more patient than he probably deserves. This Itachi grew up a loyal soldier to Konoha, this Itachi was never responsible for the genocide of their clan. He wonders if this is what his life would have looked like if the massacre had never happened.

“You can ask questions.” He says, while Itachi digs out a pit for the fire, rolling stones around its perimeter. “I know that wasn’t… very forthcoming. I… wasn’t lying about not being able to remember. I’m sorry.” He adds. Articulating long sentences is… difficult. 

Itachi glances up at him over the fire he’s in the process of making, his movements slow and relaxed. “I didn’t mean to imply that it was your fault, you don’t have to apologize.”

He resists the urge not to squirm under his gaze. He feels he owes some sort of explanation - he hasn’t even tried to pry despite how very obvious it is he wants to. 

“I remember everything before.” He insists. Itachi watches him from across the campsite. “When you were ten Mom let her into her dojo and you dropped a sword on your foot. You… you convinced our grandparents to make a dragonfly statue for my birthday. You and Shisui were hunting frogs in the river and you fell in.” His throat tightens. Shisui is still alive, isn’t he?

Itachi blinks, and some tension in his face eases. “I believe you.”

The fire crackles.

“So you woke up in the forest and then wandered over to Suna to see if you could find a Jinchuuriki?”

Sasuke winces. “I sent the hawks out first. I needed to know where I was and what was going on. Chiha was sent to Amegakure - that’s where Akatsuki headquarters are.”

“You know where their headquarters are?”

“All of their members too.”

Itachi pauses. “This is… important information. Why is it that you don’t want to go home, Sasuke?”

“I told you - I have to fight the Akatsuki.” 

“But wouldn’t it be easier if you had backup?” Itachi asks. “This information would be useful for the villages to know, and with your chakra right now…”

He’s well aware what his chakra situation is. Speaking of, he needs to apply that seal. He’ll do it later tonight - he still has some leftover from what he purchased in Toudaka. 

“They… they all think that you died.” Itachi says eventually. “They’d be relieved to see you.”

_Does_ he want to go back? He has something to go back to, this time, something to tether him to the village. But that doesn’t erase what happened, either. Is it wrong to go back? Is it wrong not to? He didn’t owe the village anything then because it had caused him nothing but grief. But now? Is he obliged to? Could the threat be better dealt with that way? 

“No.” He says, harsher than he intended. “Not yet.”

And still Itachi is patient. “I’ll go with you, then.” The subtle reassurement of that statement is more comforting than it has any right to be. “Until you're ready.”

“...thank you.” He says, after a minute of heavy silence, and means it. “How is everyone back-” He chokes over the word. “At the compound?”

Itachi has the tact not to mention it, even though his eyes flick up. “Mother took on missions again. Father is doing well. He’s still the clan head, and still butting heads with the Elders. Shisui broke a few international laws when we went to Suna and we met the daughter of the Kazekage, Temari. She’s the one who helped you fight Deidara, I heard.”

Sasuke stiffens. “... she told you.”

“Only after we explained ourselves. She wasn’t going around advertising your existence. She’s in the village now, for the Chunin exams.”

The Chunin exams. _Fuck._ How had he forgotten about that? 

Would Orochimaru still be involved if he wasn’t after the Sharingan? Well, he supposed resentfully, if the Uchiha were still alive then there were plenty of candidates to choose from. And Umo still hadn't reported back. He was expecting him around this time, but they’re in Sound now, so he shouldn’t be too far. He can get Aya on that later. 

But wasn’t Orochimaru working with the Akatsuki this time around? If he hadn't gone after Itachi and gotten booted from their ranks for doing so, then… 

“What are you thinking?”

“You can tell.” He says dryly. It figures that Itachi could read him even after being missing for so long. “You’ve heard of Orochimaru?”

“The missing nin?”

“He’s part of the Akatsuki. I’ve been sending Umo to survey Sound since Chiha saw him with the Akatsuki.”

“You think he’s going to interfere with the exams?”

“I don’t know anything for certain. Umo hasn’t come back yet.” If he had, Sasuke might have adequate evidence to suggest he was going to infiltrate the village again, which might have otherwise convinced him to go back. Last time, Orochimaru killed the Kazekage and wore his face.

“Has the Kazekage said anything strange?”

Itachi frowns, not quite following his logic. “Not that I know of, why?”

Sasuke pulls a rolled up map from the inner pouch of his pack, unfurling it against a rock. Itachi stands up and kneels next to him, and this is the closest they’ve been since he died, since Sasuke killed him-

Itachi runs his fingertips over it with a strange reverence. “How did you find all of these?”

Sasuke grimaces. “I may have burned down a few prisons and stolen some notes.”

Itachi looks over his shoulder, not quite sure what to say to that.

“There’s… a possibility that Oto is going to launch a joint attack with Suna.”

Itachi stares at him incredulously. 

“A possibility.” A possibility that seems more and more apparent the longer he thinks about it. If Orochimaru is Akatsuki, then doesn’t that mean his next logical target would be Naruto…?

“How do you know?”

“Suna has everything to gain. The treaty there halves their military budget and leaves them interdependent, concerning trade.” Not to mention political maneuverability was practically nonexistent. Suna was caught under Konoha’s thumb. “Oto is led by Orochimaru. He united the tribes there. He isn’t recognized as a Kage, but he owns everything.” ‘Led’ is a subjective term. Orochimaru holds all the political power, and the economic power. He benefits from the betting pools and kekkei genkai trade, and he has the clan heads at a local level firmly under his control. “He has a grudge.”

He bites his lip. “He’s also part of the Akatsuki, which means he might be after Naruto.”

“Sasuke-”

He turns because he doesn’t like the way Itachi is looking at him. He feels as young as this body is, as pointedly desperate and naive and aching. “Aya.”

She at least had the decency not to eavesdrop on their conversation. She drops out of the spirit world and wraps her talons around his armguard. _“Sasuke!”_

“Can you find Umo?”

She tilts her head. _“I can try. He’s supposed to be here, isn’t he?”_

“He’s late. I don’t want to move on without knowing where he is.”

She’s silent for a moment longer, probing the countryside for his signature. _“I think I feel him… to the southeast?”_

“Alright. Tenku.” 

Tenku appears in a burst of smoke, disgruntled and entirely displeased.

“I need you to find Umo and bring him back.” He says. “Aya will give you directions. If he’s close enough you should be able to sense him once you get near.”

Tenku shakes himself, complaining about the salt getting in his feathers. _“Almost as bad as the damn sand.”_ He mumbles angrily. Aya points him in the direction he needs to go, and with another pointed glare, he takes off into the forest. 

“Your hawk is missing?” Itachi ventures.

“He should be back.” His luck never holds out for long, and he isn’t willing to risk it. “Aya, you need to stay out tonight.”

_“Do I have to?”_

“Yes. I can’t support Moya right now and to get to Iwa quicker we’d have to risk being seen in Takigakure.” He turns to Itachi. “I’ll take first watch.”

Itachi frowns. “You should rest longer. You’re the one supporting the summon we’re supposed to be riding.”

“I have to do something anyways.” He says. “I have to apply the seal Matatabi showed me.”

They settle around the campsite quietly, and Itachi doesn’t sleep, attuned to the slightest noises that come from the thick forest at their backs. He sits turned away, and Sasuke tries not to imagine his profile bathed in blood, framed by broken, sun bleached rock. 

He carefully paints the symbols she showed him onto the back of his hand, dipping the brush into the ink and tracing over it again. An instant rush of relief crashes over him, so powerful that it’s almost dizzying. He hadn't realized he was in that much pain.

Aya blinks big, dark eyes at him. _“Your chakra is_ really _messed up.”_

“Astute observation.” He replies, and sleep claws at him, a pent up exhaustion cultivated from hours of overwork. 

_“Just go to sleep, you idiot.”_ She chides, jumping onto his chest, and he thinks that the argument is a little hypocritical, but if he doesn’t make it to his bedroll soon he’s going to pass out against the tree. 

Eventually, he gives in, and sleep takes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of agonized over the reunion scene. I wrote it at least three times and I'm still not sure I did it justice?? I tried. Sasuke is having a lot of issues trying to figure out what to do. Up until now he's mostly been prioritizing fighting the Akatsuki so he doesn't have to think about anything else, and Itachi has just opened another door that he isn't really ready to consider. 
> 
> The Chunin exams are here! And, of course, Team 7's awful luck will strike again. 
> 
> I've mostly written Kaguya out of the story, and honestly most of the changes are pretty minor. The only thing I have yet to work on is Black Zetsu. I'm leaning towards making him some kind of creature from the spirit world, which gets more focus later on. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading :)


	10. Shadow of the Sun

Itachi stays awake long into the early hours of morning, the sky lightening around the horizon to dusy gray, shot through with subtle pinks and oranges. Wispy clouds hang lazily above the fanged, snow-capped peaks of distant mountains. The sunrises are always more vivid outside of Konoha. 

Sasuke is still sleeping, and he clearly needs it more. He’d moved him from his awkward, slumped position against the tree to the comfort of his bedroll earlier. He sleeps facing the forest, back turned his way, while Aya sits in front of him and sticks tiny branches in his tangled hair, probably as some sort of retribution. He doesn’t really mind staying awake. He’s trained to weather much harsher conditions, after all.

The ground crackles with permafrost. Snow clings arbitrarily to the prickling coat of pine trees, glistening like a carpet of crushed diamonds. It isn’t often that it snows in Konoha, and when it does, it never sticks for long. 

A crow hops around his feet, holding a nettle in its beak. He’d sent one earlier to Shisui to explain the situation and pass on the appropriate information to the Hokage. Sasuke probably wouldn’t appreciate his identity going public, and his dedication to honor that had almost outweighed his obligation to report in. He’d left some of the more sensitive details out - that is, anything concerning the amnesia or the fact that he was fraternizing with Kumo’s Jinchuuriki. Itachi knows enough about them to realize that they wouldn’t take that too kindly to that.

The crows can only communicate effectively with their summoners. Shisui technically shares their covenant, as Itachi made him a specific part of their contract, even considering he and the crows are hardly compatible and he tends to avoid them on principle. He trusts him to convey the appropriate information.

He glances at Sasuke again, still blissfully asleep. He remembers him being a restless sleeper - constantly turning and rolling over, whispering in his sleep, pressing his head to his shoulder after a bad dream, even after Fugaku had told him that he was too old for nightmares. 

He doesn’t quite understand Sasuke’s reluctance to return to Konoha, but there’s already enough that he doesn’t understand that he worries there isn’t enough time in the world to learn. He feels, for now, at least, it’s better to wait until Sasuke comes to him - that’s always how it’s been. 

It’s painfully obvious that Sasuke lacks social development - an aversion to contact that suggests isolation. Wary of touch, defensive and guarded, often lost in thought, all things he’d come to associate with older Jonin and those that served in the war. Most counseling was limited to ANBU psych evaluations, and the Uchiha already struggle with the stigma of being emotionally unstable as it is, so he doesn’t have the experience to really say for sure. 

The ‘curse of hatred’ is a ridiculous but prevalent playground tale. He knows that the other children feared him because of his eyes, that the village looks upon him with scrutiny, even after trying so desperately to prove his loyalty. 

Unfortunately, he’d bought into those beliefs, at some point. He had internalized them, had believed fully that the coup was just a demonstration of their nature. To think that it had taken his brother’s disappearance to look deeper into the corruption in Konoha’s underbelly to even consider that he might be wrong makes him vaguely nauseous. He thinks things could have been very, _very_ different if he hadn't realized ‘the will of fire’ was just an elaborate method of concealing Danzo’s systematic hatred of the Uchiha. 

He’s pulled from his musings when Sasuke rouses, rolling onto his other side. His hair conceals the Rinnegan, but his visible eye blinks rapidly. He stiffens for a second, before sitting up and glancing around. 

“You didn’t wake me up.”

“You needed the rest.”

Sasuke frowns, but doesn’t deny it. Instead, he takes a moment to register the twigs woven carefully into his hair. 

_“Aya!”_ He hisses. She cackles. Itachi is already in the process of cleaning up camp while Sasuke tries in vain to pull the twigs out of his hair. 

He laughs softly. Sasuke glares. _“It’s not funny!”_

“It’s a little bit funny. Here, let me-” He pulls the twig he’d been missing in the back out carefully, tugging a little as it catches on a snarl. “Do you ever brush this?”

He grumbles something that Itachi will interpret as a _no._

“Aya, do something useful and find Umo and Tenku.”

She still looks entirely proud of herself. Itachi honestly can’t be sure it’s that much worse than the bedhead Sasuke already has. 

She pauses a moment, her head tilting to the side, before chirping something that he can’t understand. Sasuke tenses under his hand.

“We need to go. Umo and Tenku are close to one of Orochimaru’s hideouts.”

Itachi pauses. “You know where those are?” 

“They haven’t moved.” 

Itachi wants to ask just _why,_ exactly, Sasuke knows where Orochimaru’s hideouts are, or why he seems to think invasion is imminent. But if he’s been keeping surveillance for the past two months, then it might be a case of him just having more information. He can always bring it up later, though, because while the blank indifference on his face is convincing, Itachi is trained to read facial cues, and he’s clearly stressed. 

“We need to go.” He repeats, more forcefully this time. Luckily, there isn’t much left to pack up. They’re reading to go within the next five minutes. Aya perches on Sasuke’s pack, occasionally reaching down to pull at his hair. “Come on.”

Looks like they’re taking a detour. 

Sasuke might be taking a little _too_ much pleasure in burning down this prison. It’s a series of tunnels carved out of stone, so there’s no risk of a forest fire, and he’s not even sure that would have stopped him. This heap of rock is the only visible part of the prison, and says nothing of the extensive labyrinth of tunnels beneath. 

They’d found both Umo and Tenku in the surrounding woods, hidden in a thicket of scraggly bushes and rocks. Umo had been found with a crooked, broken wing, plumage caked with dry blood. The work of one of Orochimaru’s snakes, probably escaped from the dungeon.

“Stress relief?” Itachi raises an eyebrow. “That’s… quite a bit of fire.”

Sasuke doesn’t so much as blink. “It’s a perfectly appropriate amount of fire.”

He turns to Aya. “What’s down there?”

_“Mmh.”_ She shifts. _“Something… vile. One powerful signature. There’s another one further back, I think.”_

He frowns. “Orochimaru?”

_“No. Somebody else. I don’t recognize them.”_

Well, that was hardly reassuring.

“What is it?” Itachi steps forward. 

“Aya senses someone in the tunnels. Not Orochimaru or Kabuto.” He frowns. He doesn’t know who else would have any reason to use his tunnels - or even know about them. He went to great lengths to keep them hidden. It makes him uneasy. Dread swirls in his stomach.

“We should get to the Jinchuuriki.”

“You think they’re Akatsuki.” It isn’t a question.

Sasuke sighs. “It’s not worth the risk.”

Just for good measure, he unlocks the hatch, hidden beneath thick undergrowth and vines, and exhales a long stream of fire into the long, shadowed recesses of the tunnels. He doesn’t know the precise seals Karin used to use to seal them off - she had a system for classifying biohazards, and each level warranted a stronger seal. This is the best he can do for now. He makes a mental note of the location before stepping back, and Itachi’s hand settles on his shoulder. 

He turns, summoning Moya. He can talk to Umo about what he found later, once the wing is healed. 

They have a Jinchuuriki to find.

Shisui receives the crow early that morning. It sits perched on his half open windowsill. Usually his paranoia, both from a lifetime of ANBU and a healthy sense of self preservation from the vicious swaths of mosquitoes that thrived in the humidity, prevented him from leaving it open, not without about a hundred seals plastered to it, anyway. He figures he must’ve fallen asleep early yesterday and forgotten - long missions always screw up his sleep schedule. 

“What do _you_ want?” He grumbles, extending an arm. “If you’re here to steal my hitai-ate I’m afraid you’re too late.” 

He’d gotten it back for all of five minutes before the glorified game of fetch started again. 

“What? You from Itachi?”

It keens, and Shisui sighs, and opens his mind to the intrusion. 

He pulls back a moment later, always disorientated by the transition, and blinks a few times to collect himself.

“Oh.” He says. “Oh _shit.”_

There’s a great, rumbling voice at the back of Naruto’s mind, in his dreams, like a low, guttural growl. It resonates in the marrow of his bones, reverberates in his teeth, shoots up through his jaw and pierces his brain like shrapnel. The sky oozes red, the moon swimming in a sea of blood as Tsukuyomi stares down at them. He doesn’t look, but there’s someone at his side that he could recognize with his eyes closed, that he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt, the impression of dark hair and dark eyes and the _moon,_ and then one eye, black tomoe chasing themselves in circles as he chokes on his own blood, and he reaches up-

Naruto wakes up with his cheek pushed against the great, gnarled roots of an old tree, cushioned by green fuzzy moss. 

He can say that, objectively, the Forest of Death does in fact live up to its name, and it’s probably the worst thing he’s ever experienced. In the day, it’s mercilessly hot and humid, the undergrowth crawling with bugs the likes he’s never seen, things that looked like they came straight out of his nightmares. A leech the size of his head, clouds of mosquitoes and armies of shiny black beetles the size of his fist, not to mention the _spiders._

He shudders just _thinking_ about it. 

“Naruto.” Ino shoves him roughly. “Get up, we’re moving on.”

He rubs halfheartedly at his face. “Did the trap work?”

“Not quite. They had the wrong scroll. Sakura thinks we’re wasting too much time, so we gotta get close before we run out of time.”

They have an earth scroll, which means they need to get a heaven scroll, which, in theory, shouldn’t be too hard. In practice, however, it was much different. They were taking shifts, and apparently Naruto’s sleep rotation was already done. The only even remotely good thing about this situation was that Sakura had the ability to mold a campsite pretty easily, especially considering how many trees were around for her to use. She’d fashioned a den from the knobby roots of a tree so large it was as thick around as his apartment. 

With a groan, he rises to his feet. 

They’d agreed to avoid Temari’s team, just because the Jinchuuriki - Gaara - was a wildcard. The Sound team was off limits, too, as well as Neji’s team. Most everything else was fair game, so it really came down to discerning whether or not the team had the appropriate scroll. 

Naruto didn’t get the appeal of setting up traps and waiting for them to stumble into them, took all the fun out of it as far as he was concerned, but Ino and Sakura seemed convinced that it would work. 

He kicks his legs and feels distinctly like he’s being watched. Sweat rolls down his spine.

He turns around, fully expecting to catch the dark, inquisitive gaze of another owl, or the silky fur of a wildcat. He doesn’t see anything at all, and that’s perhaps more worrisome.

His hand lands at the nape of his neck, and he doesn’t take his eyes from the forest. “Guys, we should hurry up.”

“What’s wrong?”

“... just a feeling.” At the back of his head, the same voice laughs, low and earth-shattering, like the shifting of tectonic plates. “C’mon, let’s _go_ already!”

Ino is frowning, a furrow in her brows. “Yeah.” She says eventually. “We should.”

Shisui is sure something is wrong. It’s one of those gut instincts, churning dread in his gut, leaving fingerprints of anticipation down his spine. Communication with the crows is always… interesting, to say the least, and less than coherent. Itachi had an easier time parsing together the shared stimuli because his connection is deeper, as their principle summoner. He gets the gist, he thinks. Much of the process is reinterpreting the stimuli the crow has received and making it meaningful. It isn’t so much that he sees that he knows, implicitly, that Itachi was sitting next to the figure that must be Sasuke. Itachi’s voice, relaying everything that happened, right down to Kumo’s Jinchuuriki.

The invasion theory is somewhat concerning. As far as he can tell there’s been no strange behavior, but he knows better than to dismiss something on the basis of assumption. 

He hops the waist high gate surrounding the perimeter of the forest. Anko is probably somewhere around here, she always takes too much pleasure in tormenting the Genin, and as a proctor she has a certain obligation to make sure there aren’t any unnecessary maulings or interferences. 

For the second reason, he isn’t allowed inside the forest, or he might accidentally get everyone’s exam invalidated.

“Anko!” He calls. “Anko where the fuck are you?”

Her tigers are pacing in the field. The one perched on top of the stone monolith leaps off, ears pricked and tails lashing. Its yellow gaze is piercing. 

“Do any of you know where Anko is? We might have a situation.”

Its long, wire-thin whiskers twitch, before turning its head towards the northern gate. It bumps his shoulder with its head, hot breath washing over his arm, before heading in the other direction. 

It leads him further into the field, hugging the chain link gate, before they come to a congregation of tigers. A tiger with stunning white fur nudges Anko, on her knees, with its nose. She hangs her head, cupping the nape of her neck - the curse mark, he realizes. 

She glances over her shoulder, eyes narrowed with pain. “Uchiha.”

“I noticed your tigers were being weird.” The one behind him rumbles threateningly.

"There's something happening in the forest." She scowls, fingers curling again into the curse mark. Shisui doesn't like the implications at all. 

"Should we check on the kids?"

She labors to her feet. “I think we’ll need to. You’re backup, Uchiha, I’m giving you special permission to interfere with the exams. Orochimaru is somewhere around here and I’m not letting him leave alive.”

Naruto stands perfectly still. The feeling hasn’t gone away - if anything, it’s gotten worse. He squirms under the scrutiny of something’s gaze. He swallows hard. Ino and Sakura look similarly disturbed. 

“Guys-”

Something behind him _moves._ Naruto can barely see it through the darkness, but it crashes through the undergrowth, snapping vines and crushing foliage between tightly-knit, purple scales. Black sclera stares back at him, a mouth open to reveal fleshy gums and long, pointed incisors, as big as Naruto himself. 

Sakura throws Mokuton up just in time, and the snake crashes through it like it was nothing more than paper. Naruto holds his hands over his eyes and leaps for higher ground as it goes smashing through the den Sakura made, whirling around with its jaw hanging open, ready to swallow them whole. 

Naruto jumps down from the branch onto its head, a kunai clutched between his fingers as he aims it for the only opening he can see - the dark slits of acidic green eyes. 

It swerves out of the way before he hits it, the reinforced muscle of a prehensile tail slamming into him and propelling him back into the bushes. He counts himself lucky that he didn’t hit a tree.

Sakura caves the forest around them, wood bending frantically to her will as she tries to land a meaningful blow. Ino clears a path behind her. Naruto leaps again, wrapping his arms around the skinnier section of tail. It screeches and tries to slam him down into the ground, but he jumps again, this time for the neck. 

While preoccupied, Ino forms the hand signs for her mind transfer. Her face twists and she braces herself before it goes through, and just as she crumples, the snake goes limp beneath him. It shakes its head with a wail of pain, slamming its massive head into the nearby trees. 

Naruto takes his opportunity and jams the kunai as far as it’ll go into its eye. Sakura follows his example and pulls down the trees around them. 

He holds his breath for thirty seconds before he confirms that the snake is, in fact, dead. Ino sits up with a groan, pushing her fingers against her temples.

_“Shit.”_ She hisses. “Possessing animals fucking _hurts.”_ She’s wracked with a full body shudder. “I felt it _die.”_

Sakura pulls her to her feet, grabbing her to look her over. “Are you okay? Like, are you? You get headaches after you do that don’t you?”

She slumps forward, and Sakura wraps her arm around her shoulders. 

“Just a little dizzy.”

“A little?” She repeats, her eyebrow raised. 

Naruto sighs, his shoulders slumping, before the feeling comes back, stronger than ever.

“My, my. That was quite the impressive little show.”

A man emerges from the darkness, pale faced, dark hair hanging over his shoulders. He looks at the dead snake. “It’s too bad about Kazumi, but a wonderful demonstration of your skill.” His hand rests at the hilt of the blade sheathed at his waist. “I wonder how well you’ll fare against another one of my pets.” His eyes dart to the side. “I’m afraid we have company.”

He disappears, and leaves something even more monstrous than Kazumi in his wake. This snake stares them down with glittering black eyes, its height almost rivalling that of the trees. 

Sakura inhales sharply. 

Naruto is quick to activate his shadow clones, but with a swift sweep of its tail it destroys them all. Sakura topples the trees on either side of it, but it shakes off the impact like it’s nothing.

“Sakura!” Ino yells as it lunges, and Naruto misses the sharp movement of its tail as it barrels towards him.

The tail smashes into his side, and he’s flung into the dirt. Pain explodes in his ribs and his vision swims before going dark.

Moya deposits them on the border that separates Iwa from Taki. The land is rough and steep, and easy to hide in. Itachi is within arm’s reach at all times, and Sasuke doesn’t know what to think, how to act. After Itachi died - after the truth came out about him - his hope had gone with him. This Itachi is innocent. This Itachi hasn’t stained his hands with their parent’s blood for the sake of Konoha, this Itachi didn’t join the Akatsuki on behalf of the village, this Itachi hasn’t trapped him in Tsukuyomi, this isn’t the brother that he killed, and yet he can’t meet his eyes.

It isn’t his fault. 

He swallows whatever emotion it is that’s tightening his throat. 

“Why didn’t you drag me back to Konoha?”

Itachi pauses. “What?”

“I mean-” He bites his tongue. “I’m not an ally of Konoha. I’m an active threat. You’re obligated to bring me back whether I wanted to or not. So why didn’t you?”

“I’m not sure they consider you an active threat, so much…” He deliberates. “Our goals are aligned, as of now.”

“I have no fealty to any village.” He says. “I’m a danger to all of them. You know that. Why are you - why are you letting me stay here?”

“Because you told me you weren’t ready to return.” His voice is painfully gentle. “I came out here on no one’s behalf but my own so that I could find you. Yes, the Hokage does have an ultimatum, but I’m here of my own will, for you. The last thing I want to do is upset you, which, evidently, I have.”

Sasuke tenses. “No.” He almost snaps. “It’s not your fault. I just-”

It’s just that the Itachi he knows loved the village so much that it killed him. He’s being chosen instead of the village. He struggles to breathe, for a second. 

“If they realize you didn’t bring me back-”

“I’m directly under the Hokage. He wouldn’t harm either of us.”

_Oh yeah?_

He let Danzo order a massacre and he let Naruto live alone and he let Sasuke live in the house his parents were murdered for _years._

“Are you worried about interrogation? You’re the son of the Uchiha clan head. It’s more likely that you’d be questioned by Inoichi.”

“And when they don’t find what they want? Konoha isn’t known for its mercy.”

There had been no _mercy_ for all the Uchiha children who were slaughtered, just like there had been no mercy for the impoverished districts in the Land of Waves, like there had been no mercy for subjugated territories like Ame and Kusagakure who got caught in the crosshairs of Konoha’s war. The villages are built on the bones of the people they’ve trampled and wronged and refuse to admit that they’ve done either.

His world is gone now, but the knowledge that Itachi would have always been known as nothing but a cold blooded murderer sits at the pit of his stomach like a rock. 

“I wouldn’t let you hurt them, if that’s what you’re suggesting.” He looks appalled by the idea.

Sasuke bows his head, hiding behind his bangs. “You can’t protect me from everything.”

His expression softens with guilt. “I know.”

“It’s not your fault.” He repeats, harsher this time. “You don’t know-”

“Don’t know what? Please, I want to understand. Explain it to me.” He almost sounds desperate, and Sasuke doesn’t know what to do and he hasn’t for a while. Circumstance has stripped away his single minded determination from before the war - he doesn’t want to destroy Konoha so much as the people that lead it, but he doesn’t know how. 

He shakes his head roughly instead, turning away to tread the path between mountains. Entering through Orochimaru’s tunnels at the border had kept them from setting off any seals, so they’d evaded detection by the Chunin dotting the mountain range. According to Aya, there was a cluster of signatures to the North that suggested a village. She flies beside him now, ready to tell them where to go. 

His stomach turns.

“Aya, can you sense the Jinchuuriki?”

She hesitates. _“Yeah. He’s to the East, along the border.”_

Before jumping over the railing and continuing down the steep mountain face, he turns to Itachi. 

“This is the seal I’m using to regulate my chakra. Matatabi showed it to me.” He says after a minute. “I can’t… explain. I can’t explain everything. It isn’t your fault.” He ducks his head, and luckily Itachi sees it for the olive branch it is. 

“Well.” His face softens. “I’ll be here when you are ready.”

His chest tightens and he turns sharply, leaping down to a shale ledge. 

_“Aw.”_ Aya coos.

“Fuck you.” He glares at her from the corner of his eye. “Not another word. Do something useful and find the Jinchuuriki.”

_“As you wish.”_ If she could grin she would be, he’s sure of it. 

He chooses to ignore her and the nauseous swirl of emotion in his chest, and walks faster.

Mikoto isn’t expecting to see Shisui at her front step. Usually, he doesn’t indulge in the nicety of knocking, not that she really minds, considering they’ve practically adopted him at this point, but the fact that he bothered at all is strange in and of itself. 

“Shisui?” She props a hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow. “You only ever knock if you’re in trouble. Are you?”

He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. She notices that he’s covered in bramble and scratched up on his arms, like he just got back from a mission. She reaches forward to pluck a leaf out of his hair. “Not quite. I, uh, probably should’ve told you about this sooner, but I was a bit… preoccupied.”

She waits expectantly. 

“I’m not sure how to say it, so I’m just gonna-” He rocks back on his heels. “Itachi found Sasuke.”

They hug the border, as per Aya’s instructions. The climate here is more agreeable, not so mercilessly cold as Kumo, though the higher elevations should be, but not as humid or hot as Takigakure. The air is dry and cold and he nearly rolls an ankle when the rock beneath him cracks and threatens to cave beneath him. He grabs Itachi’s shoulder as he maneuvers around it, and stares into the narrow valley below. Chakra exhaustion stings, particularly in his hand and behind his eye. 

“How much farther?” He asks. 

_“Not that far. Keep going this way.”_

The terrain is unforgiving and rough, unsuitable for most animals. Earlier they’d passed a herd of Bharal, grazing on the scarce grass and shrubs of the mountain slopes, congregating around a salt lick. The nearest monastery owns this land; hunting them is illegal.

They follow the rock path a bit farther, after it deteriorates to nothing and drops into the valley below. 

_“You have to walk down.”_

He sighs. “We have to get into the valley.”

They slide down the cliff face, balancing themselves with chakra, until they reach the tough grass and soil, passing through a patch of flowering rhododendron. 

“Aya, how close are we?”

_“Pretty close, he should be-”_ She freezes, stiff all over. 

He pauses, dread churning in his stomach. “What is it?”

“There’s - the two figures before - I didn’t notice them. How did they-?”

The tunnels. Fuck, the _tunnels._ They were designed to conceal chakra unless they were exposed. Aya would’ve had no way to know that they were beneath them. There were no tunnels here, though, that he knew about. 

_“Shit._ Where are they?”

_“They’re already - shit! They’re near the Jinchuuriki!”_

He breaks into a run, dragging Itachi after him. “Someone’s after the Jinchuuriki!” He snaps. “Same from before.”

They’re forced back as thick, hot steam rolls through the valley. He brings an arm up to shield his face, flicking on his Sharingan to pierce through it. Itachi already has his activated behind him. Even with the Sharingan, the battlefield is muted with heavy chakra, resembling that of a tailed beast. 

“Aya, what’s going on?”

_“It’s too dense, I can’t see!”_

Sasuke bites down on a string of curses. “We need to get in there.”

He draws his sword as Itachi reaches for his kunai. It would be nice to know which Akatsuki they were dealing with, but the first order of business was getting them separated.

“We need to separate them.” He says lowly, crouched towards the ground. “Keep them away from the Jinchuuriki.”

Itachi glances at him. “Do you know which ones these are?”

“No.” He grimaces. “If you see a guy with an orange mask, don’t fight him. You should be able to take anyone else.”

He plunges into the steam, Itachi on his heels. He hunts for the chakra signatures he needs, but everything is muddled and permeated with the Jinchuuriki’s signature so it’s impossible to pinpoint anything. He doesn’t realize Itachi isn’t behind him anymore until he reaches back and he isn’t there.

He whirls around, clutching his blade with white knuckled fingers. The sound of crunching dirt, heavy and uneven, not like Itachi’s careful, quiet steps at all, echoes behind him. 

“Yo, it’s a kid. What’re you doing out here, little guy?”

He can barely see, but Hidan is unmistakable, one edge of his grin curled up. The Jinchuuriki, clad in red plated armor, slung over one shoulder, his scythe over the other. 

_Shit._

Wherever Hidan was, Kakuzu was never far behind.

“I don’t think the geezer’ll be too mad if I take a few extra minutes to kill you.” His grin is wild and unhinged. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to meet the glorious Jashin soon!”

He barely has time to watch the scythe swing down.

Itachi doesn’t know where he lost Sasuke, but his heart beats a heavy, unsteady rhythm beneath his skin. He can’t sense him anywhere. Unfortunately, the figure before him commands his attention. Red sclera and venomous green eyes stare back at him, threads weaving themselves into a thick, coarse mane, fitted with unblinking red and blue masks.

The man narrows his eyes. He’s clearly powerful, and most definitely Akatsuki. The threads grow and the Sharingan follows their movements carefully.

“Where is the Jinchuuriki?” His voice is level and even, channeling his ANBU character. 

“It’s none of your concern.”

The red mask opens and exhales a pillar of fire that he ducks under and retaliates with one of his own, to judge his strength. The threads pull and stretch and the wind mask wrenches its jaw open. Itachi leads it away, the threads tightening as it follows him. The blade of wind would be enough to cleave straight through bone, but wind only strengthens fire.

He exhales another plume of fire, and the thick haze of smoke hides the metallic gleam of wires hooked around his fingers. It’s hard to see the rock pillars around him as he moves, but the Sharingan makes it easier - the lack of chakra marks a stone pillar. 

He forces him into a chase, the crackle of burning ozone behind him and the kinetic vision of the Sharingan the only thing that stops him from being obliterated by lightning. It strikes the pillar to his left. The towering rock crumbles. A landslide of boulders comes crashing down. 

The wire pulls taut as the water mask enters the trap. He pulls, and the wire closes around the target. A brilliant plume of fire engulfs it completely. The mask shatters and the threads tangle themselves into knots, returning to the man. Three other masks rush to take its place.

The narrow channel he’s in works to his favor. It would be ideal if he could take them out one by one, but he’s closing the distance between them. 

He switches tactics. If he can get him close enough to look him in the eye, then he can lock him in a genjutsu. He’ll be able to finish off the masks eventually, but not without risk to himself and certainly not if he wants to find Sasuke and the Jinchuuriki quick enough. 

The fire mask once again props open its jaw, only to stop. 

Itachi throws his kunai. It’s ultimately harmless against the interwoven strands. 

“Hidan.” The man snaps, the threads returning back to him. “Stop playing. You’re wasting time.”

“You’re such a killjoy, old man.” A man drops down beside him from a raised tower of rock. Blood drips down the length of his blade and onto his open chest. “You didn’t even let me finish up.”

“We don’t have time for your games.” He growls. “If you have the Jinchuuriki, we’re leaving.”

He shrugs a shoulder, jostling the weight over his shoulder - Iwa’s Jinchuuriki, Han, clearly dead, or close to it. 

Hidan’s eyes turn to him, a hungry expression on his face.

“No. We’re done here. The longer I spend with the likes of you the more money I lose.” He turns with the swish of his cloak, and Hidan grumbles before following him into the quickly dissipating steam. 

Panic drums a quick tempo in his ears as he scales the pillar that Hidan just jumped down from. The fog is less prominent here, and it’s easier to breathe, when it’s not through concentrated chakra. 

He searches the uneven rock face, right until he steps in something wet, and his heart sinks.

“Sasuke?”

He’s answered by silence.

He ventures a step further, and his breath freezes in is throat as he glances down to see-

His brother, lying in a puddle of his own blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is late! I didn't have wifi for a couple of days which is why I didn't post this until now.
> 
> Anyways Sasuke is having a Time. Itachi is trying to understand and Sasuke isn't making this easy for either of them. 
> 
> We'll see a little of what happened during Sasuke's fight with Hidan later, but for the most part chakra exhaustion and the seal were working against him which is why he lost in the end. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	11. Lunar Eclipse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: panic attack at the beginning

Itachi falls to his knees and checks his pulse with one hand, ripping his jacket off to staunch the wound with the other, under the murky haze of detached horror. His heartbeat wobbles unsteadily beneath his fingers, weak and sluggish but there. 

He summons three crows. “Find the nearest village - the nearest healer. Go.”

They need no further prompting, any needed context filtering across their two-way bond. The crow’s contract was a costly one, sure, but the benefits of deeper communication are valuable. 

As a member of ANBU, he’s required to have a basic understanding of medical ninjutsu, but this is _far_ beyond his expertise. 

He fumbles with the wound anyways, anything to limit the blood loss. He bites back his feverish panic, his heart racing with the strength to rupture bone, forces himself to keep level headed, even as the world is unravelling beneath his fingers. The image of his brother, paling as the wool turns heavy and thick with blood, shreds his learned pragmatism like wet paper. 

He can only keep desperately, ineffectually, transferring chakra and hope that the crows return in time.

Itachi doesn’t know how long he sits there. His knees cramp, his hands ache, but the puddle of blood doesn’t grow too much larger. He can’t exactly close the wound, not without addressing the more complex damage that might have been done to any internal organs. He doesn't feel the bite of cold as the wind starts howling, the threat of a storm hanging on the horizon as the clouds moving down from the North darken, the hot flash of lightning lashing in their depths. Vaguely, he registers the movement of the crows, fueled by his desperation, the glimpse of umber clay tiles, splashes of mountain imagery splashed across their bond. The crows never speak. They show. 

He tries to block it out. He has to focus on keeping him from losing any more blood, but the spark of chakra at the edge of his consciousness tells him that one of them has come back. 

The crow gets back by the time his fingers are numbing, its cries sharp and throaty, and he could cry in relief. 

He hugs Sasuke to his chest - the bleeding diminished, his heartbeat throbbing dully in his wrist and throat, and moves faster than he ever has before.

The village is warm, the air dryer. Hidden in the shadow of a mountain peak, it’s sheltered from the harsh Northern winds tumbling down the mountain range. A woman screams, sloshing water from her pail all over the rough, slanted ground, at the sight of him. Children kicking a ball in the street pause, women working in the gardens stare with wide eyes. He pays them no heed. The crow only dives deeper into the cluster of homes and unpaved streets, and Itachi follows without hesitation.

It claws with a terrifying desperation at the heavy wooden door of a hut at the center of town, until it creaks open on rusted hinges, and the wrinkled face of an old woman peers out. Her eyes widen at the bloody image of his brother. 

She swears under her breath and ushers them inside and doesn't question him. He’s breathing too fast, too shallow. It had happened once before; Shisui sat him down on the bench outside the compound and shoved his head beneath his knees to ride it out, speaking soft and slow. He barely sees it as she takes him, sets him on the table and goes to work, as his vision glazes over and the green glow washes over the room. He stands there and knows that he couldn’t move if he wanted to, just watches her work with panic twisting his insides until he can hardly breathe. It takes him several minutes to register the crow in his shoulder, tugging hard at his hair. 

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, but all he can see is red, pouring across rock, sinking into the cracks of the canyon, his brother’s face - far too pale. 

He _can't_ lose him again. He doesn’t know if he could survive. 

He stands there until his knees lock, and it could be minutes or hours and it wouldn’t make a difference. Eventually she pulls away, the glow on her hands fading, a tremble all the way up her arms as she collapses into the chair next to the bed, pinching the bridge of her nose. The sheets are spotted with blood. Sasuke is soaked in it, Itachi is covered in it. 

He doesn’t dare ask if he’s alright. If he will be. If he’ll survive. He's still riding the high of adrenaline, trying to still his hands. 

“He’s stable.” She croaks, keeping her eyes shut. “For now.”

His shoulders slump, and all the air leaves him at once. The room spins. 

She stands up abruptly, hobbling back towards the kitchen, and starts combing through her drawers before coming up with a roll of gauze. 

“I stopped the major bleeding.” She says. “He needs to get to a hospital if you want him to live through the week.” She shoves a bottle in his hand, and rakes her eyes down his blood splattered front, before deeming him safe. “Get iron supplements, it’ll speed the process up.” Her eyes flick back to him. “Do I want to know how a kid that age got skewered? I don't see a hitai-ate.”

He drops low into a bow, something overwhelming and entirely unwelcome fit like a noose around his neck. “Thank you. For saving him.”

She sighs. “It’s my job, kid.”

“I can pay-”

“No.” Her tone is firm. Itachi cautiously straightens. “The most I’ve handled for a while is sick kids.” Her face is touched with discomfort. “I haven’t had to heal something like that since the Third war.”

“You were-”

“It takes one to know one.” She’s at the foot of the bed, again, checking his vitals. “I’ve seen enough violence for a lifetime. Get him out of here, and quick, before the rest of the village catches on and starts another witch hunt. They aren’t so accepting of Konoha Shinobi.”

Itachi swallows. “You knew we were Konoha, and you still helped us.”

“Not everything is about the village, kid. I wished I had figured it out sooner.” Itachi recognizes the regret in her eyes. “To hell with the village. Some things are more important. Now, get out of my village, boy, before you bring more trouble.”

He grabs him beneath the knees, his head rests in the crook of his shoulder.

“Thank you.” He says again, relief and desperation and sheer, bone-deep exhaustion rolled into his tone. 

She rolls her eyes and makes shooing motions with her hands.

He’s gone within the minute. 

Naruto is facing down a man with strange, purple eyes, ringed with tomoe, like the moon, and stout horns, an old weariness chiselled into the lines of his face. His white coat seems to shimmer, like if he reached out he would crumble to dust. The world is a hazy broadstroke of purple and black and everything in between, a color spectrum that he couldn’t put a name to if he tried.

Naruto feels bigger, taller, than he should be, but still indescribably small in comparison. There’s a distinctly inhuman quality to him, the glamor of surrealism painted over his figure, something that transcends time and human mortality. It reminds him vaguely of the long corridors lined with pipes and tepid water.

“Naruto.” He says, his voice creaking. _The sage,_ his mind whispers. 

He opens his mouth to speak, and no sound comes out.

“I have existed like this for far too long.” He extends a hand, and Naruto is compelled to reach out and take it. “The end must be with you.”

Naruto reciprocates the gesture, extending his hand as something etches itself onto his palm and worms ichor into his blood, warm and flickering like the image before him. 

“How-?”

He only smiles, even as he calls for him to wait, his voice echoing around his own skull. 

“-ruto.”

The darkness changes, suddenly, surrounds him and tugs him down beneath its current. He kicks at the weight on top of him, rocks lining his ribs as he tries to breathe-

 _“Kid._ Wake up!”

He blinks awake and sits up so fast that he nearly headbutts whoever it is leaning over him. The feeling of falling, of drowning, subsides, but he’s left blinking away the senseless fragments of the dream. 

Some lady with an open jacket is staring down at him, her eyes as dark as her hair. He thinks he's seen her before. 

Naruto squints. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Anko, kid. I’m the proctor of the exams. What do you remember?”

“I - uh-” The man with the snakes. He remembers being catapulted through the forest at bone-shattering speed, definitely. “Some guy with a snake attacked us - two snakes, I guess-” He sits up straight. “Where’s Sakura and Ino?”

“They’re both fine.” She says, tipping her head towards the other side of the clearing. Sakura is framed in the wreckage of Mokuton, sticking up and around her like a shattered ribcage. Chunks of wood, chewed up and ripped off, are scattered across the grass. Ino lies beside more torn pillars of Mokuton. Both of them are very clearly unconscious. 

Then there’s the two _giant snake carcasses._

One is wound around the thick upper branches, it’s tail draped down the length of the trunk and nearly touching the grass. Naruto shudders at the sight of it. The other one is exactly where they’d left it, crushed beneath Mokuton. 

“Well, as fine as they can be, I guess.”

Naruto gawks at her. “You - I - _what happened?_ Where’s the snake guy?!”

“He got away. Shisui killed your snake friend. You took out the first one?”

“Yeah, but-”

She stands up, brushing herself off. “Alright, well, I gotta report this to the Hokage. Don’t tell anyone about this, you hear me? Not to anyone, for any reason, unless you’re instructed not to. Understand, Uzumaki?”

Naruto stares.

“I said, _understand?”_

“Yes!” He squeaks. “I understand!”

“Good. And if any of you talk, we’ll know.” Seemingly done with her fear-mongering, she turns on her heel. “Good luck with the rest of the exams, kid!”

Then she’s gone, and Naruto has to gawk at the _audacity._

He stares at the dark spot between the thick shrubbery that she disappeared through and grinds his teeth. Well, in that case, he better wake up the rest of his team.

The fact that Kakashi has been summoned for an audience with the Hokage while his students are away is nothing short of terribly concerning. _Private audiences with the Hokage_ are not to be taken lightly, and in his experience, they never indicate anything good. Not even _remotely good._ In fact, they’re always, indiscriminately, bad. This means something has gone horribly wrong and Kakashi has no idea what it is - though, the trickle of dread in his gut, nearly indistinguishable from paranoia, informs him just what exactly this meeting is probably about.

He sincerely hopes he isn’t walking into this office just to be told his students are dead.

He doesn’t bother knocking. There are guards posted at every corner of the hallway and had the situation been less worrisome he would’ve entered through the window, just to one up the ANBU on guard duty. He might not be a member anymore, but that doesn't mean he wasn’t the captain for a good portion of his life.

He strolls into the office, faux-calm, all sloped shoulders and easy ambling. He shoves his hands in his pockets and eases the tension out of his spine. 

Anko stares at him from the table. The Sandaime sighs wearily, tapping his pipe on the table.

“Kakashi.” He greets. 

Usually he’d be inclined to meander around the issue for as long as possible, but this isn’t the time. “This is about the exams, isn’t it?”

“Nothing gets past you.” Anko snorts. “You want to tell him, or me?”

This situation is getting stranger and stranger as the seconds drag on. Normally he wouldn’t be called in personally if his team was eliminated, if his students died, but his students are high profile. The Jinchuuriki, a Mokuten user, a clan heiress. That might merit an official briefing, except it would still be strange to only include him in the audience, and why would Anko be here?

She plows ahead. “I’m gonna tell him. Rip the bandaid off. Kakashi, your kids were attacked by Orochimaru.”

Kakashi startles, like the breath was knocked out of him. “... excuse me?”

“Orochimaru. Snake bastard. Real nasty guy, deserted-”

“I know who Orochimaru is.” He cuts in, somewhat hysterical. “Are they - are they alright? Why were they attacked?” He turns sharply to the Hokage. “Do you plan on withdrawing them from the competition? What about the other competitors?”

“Relax, relax. They’re mostly fine.”

_“Mostly?”_

“The curse mark started acting up earlier. Me and that Shisui kid looked into it. From what we can tell they took out one of his pet monsters and Shisui fought off the other one while I chased after him. He got away and I looped back to check on the kids. Shisui already killed the other snake and apparently had some ‘clan business’ to attend to so he left me with the brats. No seals were undone, aside from a little bruising they seemed fine.”

He turns. “And do we know the motive?”

The Hokage deliberates for a long moment. “It could be a great many things. If his obsession with his own mortality has stayed consistent, then it’s not impossible that he’s looking for the means to achieve that in one of them. He may have been after them because all three possess exceptional abilities worthy of study. They might have peaked his interest, or it might have been coincidence. Another team was reported dead - one from Kusagakure, though it’s currently undetermined whether it was Orochimaru or another team.”

The idea of Orochimaru going after any of his students makes him vaguely nauseous. The thought of him in the village at all is sobering. 

“And what do you plan to do about it?”

Anko picks, disinterested, at her nails. “Nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothing.” His tone comes out sharper than he intended. Irritation grates on exposed nerve ends, bitten raw from anxiety. “You’re not going to withdraw them from the competition? Or cancel it?”

“Your students are safe.” The Hokage tries to soothe, but Kakashi isn’t the least bit placated. If Orochimaru attacked them once he knows that he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again, if he thought he needed to. If they were so _safe,_ how had Orochimaru attacked them in the first place?

Anko must catch him tensing.

“Down, boy.” She mutters to her nails. 

“There’s nothing to indicate that he’ll attack again. If he wanted to kill your students, he would’ve done it while he had the chance.” He reasons in his old, creaking voice. “We’ll tighten security and ensure that he isn’t anywhere in the village. I’ll be assigning ANBU to Sakura’s home, as another measure of security.”

He wants to demand they be removed. The objective wasn’t even to _win,_ it was to be _noticed,_ and they’d caught the wrong eyes. 

“You need to keep this classified.”

“You’re not telling anyone about the attack?”

“It would cause unnecessary panic.” He replies. “For now, this situation merits S-Class confidentiality. Any attempts to share this information will result in severe consequences.” His look is warning. _Don’t try anything._

Kakashi is privately angry, furious, even, more so than he can remember being in a very long time, but he’s also a trained dog - he sits when he’s told. So he shuts his mouth and swallows his displeasure. “Of course.” His voice is mild. 

Anko doesn’t seem any more happy about the situation than he is. Her face is dark and her eyes swimming with resentment. Orochimaru is a sore topic for her. The curse mark, like a noose around her neck, is a stark reminder. 

“The two of you are dismissed.”

Anko immediately wraps her hand around his arm and drags him out of the room. 

“C’mon, Hatake.” She says. “You and I are getting fucking _wasted.”_

The wait is long and awkward and almost physically painful, but Mikoto bears it with the patience that only comes from experience. To say that the clan is shocked would be an understatement. The levity of her words cleaves through the thick atmosphere like a knife and renders everyone momentarily silent, the punctuation of silence making her words all the more earth-shattering. 

Her son is _alive._

She had never really given up hope, even after she should’ve sought closure and moved on. There had always been that unanswered question, that hanging thread. 

Despair had almost consumed her after he had disappeared. He’s legally listed dead, now. His name couldn’t be added to the ceremonial headstone because his eyes had never been recovered, and she still isn’t sure if that fact had sustained her belief or if it contributed to her anguish. The possibility that he could still be alive drove her headfirst back into missions. The emptiness of the house would’ve consumed her, otherwise. 

And now. To have confirmation that he’s alive-

It doesn’t feel real. She’s worried she’ll blink and reality will fall back into place and this will all have been a cruel dream.

Fugaku is stiff beside her, but she can see the cracks in his facade.

_Her son is alive, she'll be able to see him again-_

The flames behind the Elders snap and hiss. Haruhi’s face contorts into an unpleasant frown as she grapples for control of the room. 

“What evidence do you have?” She snaps. “How can you be so sure?”

Mikoto turns to Shisui, sitting where Itachi usually would be. 

“Yesterday, Itachi’s Summon conveyed to me that he had found Sasuke. I saw him myself.”

“And how are we to know you speak the truth?” Her tone is harsh. The coils flicker and glow molten orange. 

Mikoto bristles at the mere insinuation that Shisui would lie about a topic such as this. 

“What reason would he have to lie?” She asks. The room silences again. She isn’t one to participate much in these meetings. At first, it had been out of simple disinterest. Most things disinterested her after Sasuke disappeared. Then it had morphed into something like bitterness, once Haruhi had made her stance on their position clear. “What would be gain by doing so? The Hokage himself authorized the mission. Lying to both his clan and the village would be treason. Is that what you accuse him of?”

Fugaku stiffens behind her. Shisui glances out of the corner of his eye. Haruhi _seethes._

Let her. Mikoto knows better than to bow her head to her wrath. The flames roar, but she doesn’t shift, even as the hot air starts to rise and the veil covering her face lifts, revealing the red of the Sharingan. 

She’s tired of Haruhi’s iron fist. 

“You will _not_ sit there and accuse him of lying. My son is alive. When he returns we will welcome him back into the clan and he will be received properly. There is nothing more to say on the subject.” Her Sharingan is activated before she realizes. The congregation is tense and silent behind her, but the heat of the flames and the adrenaline of the moment drown it out. “I will not tolerate any of your deception.”

She wrestles with the control of the flames, before silencing them. The gathering holds its breath. 

“This meeting is _adjourned.”_

Shisui folds his hands behind his head as the clan shuffles around and back to their duties, half dazed and mumbling to themselves about the _insolence_ and the _shock_ and the _disrespect._ “You just challenged _Haruhi._ I think that’s the coolest thing you’ve ever done.”

 _“Mikoto.”_ Fugaku stresses. “Do you have _any_ idea what you just did?”

“Well.” She smoothes a hand through her hair. “It appears I just challenged one of the Elders.”

Shisui rocks back on his heels. “Was that, like, a formal challenge? Are you two gonna duke it out now? Can I be the referee?”

“Shisui.” Fugaku snaps. “Don’t make light of this-”

“I’d be honored if you would referee,” She replies. “But I don’t think this counts as an official challenge. I didn’t get a formal reply.”

“You both had your Sharingan activated-”

“She instigated.” Shisui points out. “Haruhi activated it first.”

“That’s a social precedent.”

“Doesn’t mean she should’ve been using it, this was a peaceful discussion-”

"She _stole the ceremonial fire from her_."

“Boys.” She puts her hands on her hips. “It’s fine. Haruhi fears change too much to accept any threat to her position. Besides,” There’s a look on her face that Shisui can’t quite place. “Would it be so terrible if she were to accept my challenge?”

It’s moments like these that Shisui remembers that _Mikoto_ was the primary advocate for the coup, and not Fugaku. 

“That would uproot our traditions, our social structure-”

“This is why Haruhi is still using you like a pawn.” She points out. It isn’t often that she’s so open with her dislike. “She thinks she can still leverage power out of you.”

Fugaku pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shisui, you’re dismissed. We need to address this.”

Shisui salutes. “Yes sir.”

Before he turns, he grabs Mikoto’s arm. “She totally deserved it.” 

She smiles warmly at him before he turns and is on his way.

“How long have we _been_ in here?” Ino tugs her fingers through the snarled hair behind her ear. The longer they wait the more desperate the situation becomes - and it really isn’t their fault that they were attacked by not one but two gigantic snake monstrosities, but they still had to work around the consequences. They’ve lost at least a good couple of hours, so they’ve already been here for two days, and who knows how many people have already made it out. The more time they waste, the fewer scrolls they have, the more dangerous it gets for them. She knows how this works. “We need to move faster.”

The tower looming over the treetops is close. An ambush would be her preferred tactic. Everyone passes through here, so getting the scroll they need should be easy enough, if they can trap someone. She says as much, and is met with blank stares.

Ino is being raised to inherit the clan name. Between her siblings, she is the one to have inherited the kekkei genkai her clan is known for - a uniquely adapted variation of it. She has to know these things. Sakura may be booksmart, but Ino has to think in steps. She’d picked it up from Shikamaru - hang around him long enough, and you tend to pick things up. Their parents are family friends, and she’d come to think of him as something like another brother, for all the time she spends with him. She’s nowhere near as good, but right now she just needs to be enough. 

“Can’t Sakura just use Mokuton to trap whoever comes by?” Naruto crosses his arms.

Sakura slumps bonelessly against a broad tree. “You’re _severely_ overestimating how much chakra I have right now.” 

“Guys. C’mon. Let’s go set up some traps.”

Kakashi had greatly stressed to them the importance of perimeter seals. They’d all applied them no less than three separate times on that disastrous camping trip. They weave them between the trees and retreat to the bushes, where they’ll lie in wait. She has no doubt that other teams are doing the same thing - she wouldn’t even put it past them to be hoarding scrolls, either for the purpose of bargaining or to limit the competition. All they need to do is not get caught.

“Someone’s moving down there.” Sakura whispers. Suna, from the looks of them. They seem to be around the same age, wary and shaking in their own boots. Inexperienced.

(Not that she has _that_ much experience to speak of, but she’s survived encounters with an S-rank criminal _and_ a member of the Akatsuki).

“I’ll get the middle one.”

“I call left!”

“Naruto, does it _matter-?”_

“Let’s go!”

They drop down from the trees, and the fight is over before it’s begun.

Temari’s team finishes the second stage of the Chunin exams in record time.

It’s because of Gaara, she knows. Because he shot the other team full of needles, and they collected their scrolls, and it was over in three hours flat. He might’ve indulged more, if he hadn't been so interested in the challenge itself. That was unusual for him, all things considered. She was worried that she’d never be able to get him _out,_ but it seemed that wasn’t the case. 

She’s left them somewhere behind, in the lodgings for Suna. Her father is holed up in his room still. The only time he’d interacted with her in the past month and it’s to tell her how to destroy the village she’s currently in and whatever tenuous peace they have, too.

She doesn’t _want_ to. She has no particular feelings towards Konoha, but walking its streets with the knowledge that she’s meant to lay waste to it feels wrong. 

It’s so her village can drag itself out of the hole it’s made. It’s to keep Konoha out of their internal affairs. Trying to assess each other on terms of morality when her very profession revolves around killing is a tiresome and fruitless prospect. She’ll walk herself in circles before she comes up with anything worthwhile.

That doesn’t mean she has to like meaningless destruction, and certainly not of this scale. If they're to unleash Shukaku on the village, she has no doubt thousands will be killed before they manage to restrain it. There's the Uchiha clan to worry about with their Sharingan, their ability to tame the beasts, sure, but Konoha is so tied up in their segregation that it should hardly matter if they get the timing right. 

Is there any way around it?

There’s really not much she can do against _Shukaku._ She’d be more likely to get herself killed before fighting something like _that._

She glances over her shoulder. A pair of eyes watches her from the trees.

Her lip curls. Her father’s goons, no doubt. Worse, if they’re Oto. She doesn’t so much understand why they’re allying themselves with them. Enemy of my enemy, and all that sentiment, but beyond that they don’t have much in common, and the Kazekage is far from a trusting person.

Either way, she has to be careful what she says and does. She doesn’t want to think about what they’ll do if they find her leaking information. 

She turns the corner, wondering if it’s possible to lose them, and bumps into Shisui.

“Temari!” He greets brightly. “Wow, are you already done with your exam?”

“We finished in three hours.” She replies blandly.

He blinks. “Damn. That’s pretty good.” 

She shrugs, and glances over her shoulder. What would they do to her if she spilled the secret? Really, what could anyone do if she _did?_ She'd probably be forcibly removed from the exams, escorted back to Suna where she'd get to live the rest of her life as Genin under her father's thumb. They might just decide to set Gaara off earlier and then it’ll be the end of all of them no matter what. 

“You nervous about the third part?”

She rolls her eyes. “Why should I be? Your village doesn’t have a whole lot to offer.”

“Ouch. I wouldn’t say we’re _that_ bad.”

“Oh yeah?” No one’s said anything about the guards trailing them. She glances up at him, kicking a pebble around as they walk. “Did you find the kid?”

He positively lights up. “It’s a bit of a secret, at the moment, but Itachi found him. Not sure when they’ll be back - he wasn’t exactly forthcoming about that.”

“I’m surprised he agreed. He didn’t seem the type.”

“Well. I wouldn’t know.” He kicks the rock into the gutter. “I haven’t actually seen him since he was five.” 

She hums, and thinks again of the guards at her back. “Shisui-”

She doesn’t get the chance to continue. Someone appears behind her, wrapping an arm around her arm. Shisui tenses at her side.

One of her father's goons, then. None of the Oto guards ever approach her, let alone get this close. 

“Lady Temari.” He says. “Your father requests an audience with you.”

Temari clenches her jaw. She _highly_ doubts that, considering she hasn’t spoken to her father in _months._ “Of course.” She says stiffly, and then, to Shisui, “Another time.”

He waves, the pleasant smile once again pinned to his face, but even that can’t conceal the killer instinct beneath it. She pretends not to see it as she turns and lets the guard guide her down the road.

Ino wheels her cart down the long hallway of the hospital. She’s required at E-wing, apparently. This is only her fourth shift as of yet, but apparently she has enough potential to warrant advanced training. She doesn’t particularly like hospitals - the ever-present threat of sickness hangs thick in the air, and the smell of antiseptic clings to her senses long after she leaves, but she does like people, and this is a good opportunity-

Of course, her mother thinks it’s undignified for a heiress to be taking up hospital shifts, but see if she cares. 

Sometimes Sakura shows up and sits in the lobby during her break, or Naruto comes by to brag about how they passed the exams again. She feels bad for Iruka-sensei, she’s surprised he hasn’t talked his ear off by now. 

The hallway is clogged with med nin. That in itself isn’t unusual - accidents in ANBU or even the above average Jonin usually merit quite a bit of reinforcement to handle. It’s one of the reasons consistent psyche evaluations are so important for ANBU members - mental instability of any kind paired with lethal force often had unfortunate consequences that left med nin jittery and apprehensive when tending to him. Often it led to chakra restraints being necessary to treat without the possibility of harm. 

They’re clearing out _quite_ a few rooms though - and the panic on the head Nurse’s face is unlike anything she’s seen before. Now they’re rolling out the sealing paper - those look like _S-class seals._ Those are reserved for ANBU. She’s required to have the sealing classes memorized by next week, and those are the powerful kind. If she squints, she thinks she can make out the unique pattern of privacy seals, too. She wonders what happened this time. 

They rope off the hallway, and she’s forced to go back.

With a huff, she turns the cart around. They need her in room E-72 anyways. There’s always time to check later - the nurses behind the counter always gossip, she can find out whatever she needs from them.

She glances over her shoulder one more time before setting off.

He wakes to an awful pounding in his head and the uncomfortable prick of an IV in his hand. He holds himself perfectly still, assessing the situation. There’s something blocking his chakra. He takes a moment to coax his lethargic fear into submission, pins down his spiralling thoughts, and concludes that his chakra has been sealed - or, no, it originates in his wrist. He keeps his eyes shut and tugs. Handcuffed to something. He vaguely remembers fighting Hidan - if that could be called a fight, anyways. The unhinged slant of his smile when he'd torn his scythe through his stomach. 

He pushes past the memory and digs his fingers into the covers bunched at his waist.

He’s in a bed. He’s in a _hospital_ bed. He recognizes the smell and the paper-thin sheets. He forces himself to keep calm as he cautiously extends himself, searching out the bubbles of chakra dotting the perimeter - one in his room, at the far corner. Familiar. 

Other signatures. Some too far away to identify. But, worst of all, he _recognizes_ some.

He breathes deeply. 

He’s in _Konoha._

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this early because I won't have access to my computer tomorrow. 
> 
> Sasuke isn't dead! He's not like. Great. But he isn't dead! And for better or for worse, he's back in Konoha! We see some more Uchiha clan politics, and more memories for Naruto. 
> 
> As for ANBU, I feel like for an elite class of fighters like that it would be good to have everyone be at least a little familiar with healing, even considering people have different aptitudes for it. In the interest of keeping as many of your soldiers alive as possible, healing would probably be one of the best things to teach them if you don't want everybody bleeding out in the field. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	12. Synchronous Orbit

The wait is nothing short of _arduous._

He can’t get up to push aside the curtain surrounding his bed. His chakra is effectively sealed and he’s shackled to the bed. The long panels of fluorescent light aren’t helping his headache any, and he’s _helpless._ He festers in his anxiety, stretching seconds into minutes as he waits in tense anticipation, sitting straight up despite the dull throb of the wound on his stomach and the dizzying pain in his hand that evolves further to nausea with every passing second. 

The candle-light flicker of passing signatures catch him on edge as they near the door, and he barely has time to relax before the next one comes by. 

He can’t see the seals on the door, but he knows they must be there, can feel the thin disturbance in the air, like nails on sandpaper, just as well as he knows there’s an ANBU guard posted in the hallway. He pulls again at the handcuff. If they wanted to kill him they would have done so already - unless they wanted Itachi out of the room. He pulls again. But - they wouldn’t have a reason to want to kill him this time, would they? He pulls. 

_(They never needed a reason before, did they?)_

If he wasn’t in this stupid, useless body this wouldn’t even be an issue in the first place. He scowls as he stares at his too-short legs. He’d taken being taller than five foot for granted.

All sense of calm slips away when the thundering procession of people storm down the hallway. _Fire natures_ \- it’s usually harder to tell, but they _burn,_ the glow of sparks in the hallway like flecks of opalescent fire at the edge of his consciousness. His breath stalls in his throat and he holds his breath. 

People he never thought he would see again. 

It feels like they’re arguing. He can almost _hear_ the crack of open flame; the Uchiha are known for their tempers, and they _are_ Uchiha. Known for their fire, shaped by mountain peaks where the difference would kill you; chakra nature is shaped both by blood ties, environment, and sense of self. No one else has signatures that prominent, that powerful - it probably helps that they’re parading them, and he’s particularly fine-tuned. One of the few upsides of being an Uchiha with a primary lightning nature was that no one could sense you before you were coming and _know._

The curtain ripples, and Itachi steps inside. The apprehension blooming in his chest wilts, a little. He has that look on his face - the one where he’s trying to wipe away his expression. He tries not to wince. He should’ve figured it out sooner - he should’ve caught on before it escalated. 

“Sasuke.” His voice is quiet. “Your injuries were… extensive. We were lucky enough that there was a healer within range, but you required hospitalization-”

The unspoken apology is there, and Sasuke isn’t about to let him finish it. He grabs his wrist, the one perched on the railing near the seal, and doesn’t look him in the eye, because he can’t manage both. He shouldn’t apologize for this. _He shouldn’t have to apologize for something he didn’t even do._

“I understand.”

His shoulders lower with barely contained relief. “The clan is here - there’s a bit of a dispute over how your case should be handled. The clan is possessive of its secrets, and the Mangekyo-”

“Is the biggest secret they have.”

Itachi’s gaze flicks to his left eye. “Not the biggest.”

_Shit._

“No one saw.” He reassures. “But your chakra - they did notice it.”

“Is that why the seal is so weak?” 

Itachi sighs, and Sasuke can see the shadows beneath his eyes, the corner of his lips turned up. “It figures that _that’s_ what you take offense to in this situation.”

He is, frankly, indignant. 

“I’m going to deal with the clan. Do you-”

His nails bite into his wrist. “Not yet. Don’t tell anyone about the Rinnegan.”

Itachi carefully removes his wrist from his grasp, gently setting it on his shoulder, easy enough for him to lean away from. He doesn’t move. “They’re still going to notice the coil-”

“I’ll say it’s a side effect of the Mangekyo.” He says. 

He pauses to consider. “It could work. If it’s a clan doctor, it might be more difficult.”

“They can’t prove it isn’t.” Is what he allows, before leaning against the pillow again, the pain once again distinct. “It’s more likely they'll blame it on a mutation. They won’t defer to the Rinnegan.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in a minute.”

The door slips shut behind him. He pulls at the handcuff again, and waits.

The matter is settled later, with no shortage of debate, and since he’s considered a state secret, for his currently unexplainable ability to fight the Akatsuki and win, he won’t be treated by a clan doctor. As a compromise, however, he’ll be treated by a specialist in Dojutsu, one possessing the Sharingan, who’s primary loyalty is to the clan. 

The first doctor that sees him introduces herself as Kyoko, and her eyes are pale with the Byakugan. 

“Good morning.” She smiles softly, beneath her glossy curtain of black hair. “I’m here to look over your chakra network. It says here that it’s sustained a little damage.” She wheels her chair over, checking the lymph nodes in his neck. She’s looking for chakra-sickness. Chakra is so closely intertwined with the body that intense fluctuations can trigger immune responses - but typically it’s only in response to medical ninjutsu, but he supposes after being healed in a village in the middle of the mountains, it would be standard. 

“Okay. I’m going to need to look at your chakra now. Mind if I undo the seal?”

He stares at her, flat. “Are you allowed?”

“You seem perfectly alert, and don’t pose a danger to yourself or others, and I need to see how all your chakra is moving.” She unseals the cuff, and he feels the relief of warmth wash over him. 

The chakra around her shifts as she activates it, and then immediately pauses. 

“... oh, dear.”

He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, disinterested. 

She swallows. “I didn’t realize it was quite… this bad. Do you have symptoms right now? Lightheadedness, dizziness, nausea…” She frowns. “You seem perfectly alert. There’s no drop in your vitals…”

“It’s probably this.” He shows her the seal on his hand. 

“I’ve never seen this before.”

Well, to be fair, he doubts anyone has, considering Matatabi adapted it from the Jinchuuriki’s seal. 

“It’s… efficient. With chakra regulation.”

“I suppose that explains how you aren’t dead. Have you seen improvement since you applied it? Your eye shouldn't be diverting so much of your chakra... overuse can sometimes lead to entanglement or these kind of mutations..." She scribbles something down onto her chart. "Frankly, I… I’m not sure I’m qualified to handle this. We’ll need… someone else. With more experience. I’ve never addressed a case like this before. I’ll send someone more experienced with this type of displacement in later, and someone to check on that seal, too, that’ll take longer though, who knows where that woman is now…” She shakes her head. “I’ll have someone take care of it later. For now, if there’s nothing else wrong…”

She looks him over again, checking reflexes, hearing, sight, sometimes mentioning something that applies less to his very limited understanding of medical terminology. Sakura might have understood.

He sits unnaturally still as she finishes the rest of her check up, peeling back the gauze and tape around his stomach to make sure the wound hasn’t opened up again, that there was no bruising or internal bleeding, and declares him in the clear. 

(She _does,_ however, take the time to lecture him on the importance of his health - citing his apparent malnourishment, which isn’t his fault, and sleep deprivation, and then about the severe scarring in his chakra pathways, not to mention they _burst one in his hand,_ which is being attended to, then to avoid rigorous physical activity for at least a day or two, 'just to be safe'). 

But after she leaves, they’re granted a bit of silence. The scar tissue pulls as he stretches back. Itachi is at his side again, in the chair next to the bed.

“How long until I can get out of here?”

“At least today and tomorrow for observation. They need to monitor your chakra in case it gets worse, and they have a fuinjutsu expert coming in to see about the seal on your hand, and if she can make it more efficient.” 

And for other reasons, he’s sure.

“And - Sasuke. They’re not sending anyone else in until you’ve been questioned. I already informed them of the situation with your memory. They’re sending Inoichi in to see what’s wrong.” 

He does his best not to visibly tense. “Can he?”

“Yet to be seen.” A knock at the door. “It seems like the other doctor is here.”

“... the one the council approved.”

They’re going to want to know just how exactly he’d gotten the Mangekyo, and they’re going to want to know how he knows how to use it. He doesn’t need to involve Itachi in this mess. 

“Will you wait outside?”

Itachi pauses, and Sasuke realizes, with a hot flash of guilt, that he might have taken that the wrong way. He opens his mouth, not quite sure what he plans to say, and he puts a hand on his head.

“I understand, you need space.” He _looks_ at him. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Obviously, I do.” He grumbles, glaring at the sheets.

He smiles. “Okay, I’ll be waiting outside if you need me.”

And then he’s gone. He pretends the room isn't all the colder for it. 

Naruto usually wouldn’t be caught dead in a library, but usually, he didn’t have persistent dreams about a horned figure informing him of the end of the world, so he’s willing to make an exception. Suffice to say, the librarian, who he hasn’t seen since he was seven and renting a textbook he needed for class, nearly has a heart attack when he leaps through the open window. 

The library has always seemed… too big, filled with open space and a domed ceiling that reminded him more of the elegance of the Hokage Residence rather than the austere, frugal squares of space that apartments stacked on top of each other in looming towers were allotted. 

He skims through the quiet aisles, not exactly sure what he’s looking for. 

He turns down the next one, only to spot Iruka-sensei, with a cardboard box labelled Donations across it in black marker. Naruto remembers that he was collecting books for the orphanage he’s planning to open. He’d never admit it, but he might have cried a little upon hearing that, but only a little.

“Iruka-sensei!” He calls, only to get a wince and a finger pressed to his lips, and then a sheepish grin as he runs towards him. 

“Naruto!” He greets. “I didn’t think you liked to go to the library.”

“I’m looking for a book.” He rolls back on his heels. “I’m not sure where to find it though.”

“Oh.” He sets the box down. “What are you looking for? Maybe I can help.” 

“Er, the - the Sage? The Sage of Sixth Paths, I think.”

Iruka blinks. “I didn’t know you had an interest in mythology. That's the Otsutsuki myth isn't it?”

“Mythology?” He repeats. He hadn't _seemed_ much like a myth. 

“I should’ve figured, after that time you thought your apartment was haunted. Remember? You begged me to get a Shaman-”

_“Shh,_ Iruka-sensei, no!” He groans. “I don’t _want_ to remember that.”

He laughs. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll go see if I can find your book.”

Naruto trails after him as they skim the shelves, before eventually coming across a hefty textbook, as thick around as his fist. He squints at it disdainfully. “... this one?”

“It is a little advanced…” He admits, studying the back. “I don’t see anything else that references the legend, though. Try looking through it, you might find what you’re looking for.”

He nearly falls over when he puts it in his hands.

He’s never going to finish this thing. He’s not much of a reader in general - he just can’t keep focused for long enough. He doesn’t know if he can handle… whatever this is. _A Merging Times: An encyclopedia of the myths and legends of the ancient world._ Seems… wordy. 

“Okay, I have to go sign off on a couple more papers.” He ruffles his hair. “Have fun with your book!”

“Thanks!” He grins, tucks it to his chest, and settles down at the nearest table.

The boy sitting in the hospital bed, pale and dishevelled, with a look that could kill, is not what Inoichi was expecting upon entering the room, his entourage of the Hokage himself and Ibiki flanking him. They make for a bit of an… intimidating picture, to say the least, and he had been prepared to provide much needed reassurement that there would be no harm done to him. He remembers at the clan meetings, on the rare occasions that they all decided to congregate, Itachi would bring his younger brother with him. It’s hard to reconcile the bright, sociable boy in his memory with the bristling, glowering boy before him. 

Apparently, this is the person who’s been _fighting the Akatsuki,_ and he has no idea how he did it. He certainly hadn't expected him to be Fugaku’s youngest son. It's disconcerting to picture the child in front of him fighting much of anything, much less an S-rank criminal. 

“Sasuke,” The Hokage greets warmly. “It has been quite a long time. I hope that you’ve been treated well during your stay here.” 

He goes frighteningly still. The dichotomy between the cold indifference on his face and the molten fury in his eyes that the Uchiha are so feared for is striking. Definitely not the kid he remembers, and a change this extreme means that something happened, and he intends to find out what it is. 

“...fine.” He all but growls. His knuckles are white. 

He doesn’t even know if this is even _safe,_ considering the state of his chakra, but they’d insisted-

“Your brother told me about the memory block.” Inoichi says, moving to sit down in the chair next to him. Sasuke watches him sharply, tension in the nasal crease, in the eyes. He speaks and moves slowly, like he did around that alley cat that Ino had begged him to rehome, at least, if keeping it wasn’t an option. “My name is Inoichi, head of the Yamanaka clan. I have a daughter your age. You probably don’t remember, but you and your brother used to come to the clan meetings.”

The tension in his shoulders eases, if only slightly, more caught off guard than anything else.

“I’m going to see if I can get around the memory block. It shouldn’t hurt, and I don’t want to pry too much, I just want to see if I can get past it, alright? Try to relax.”

He’s stiff again, and he leans away from his hand, but doesn’t fight.

Treading through other’s memories is a deeply intimate process. He had failed to understand, the first time, that he would _experience_ the memories, too. When their clan still resided in the mountains, they were feared for a reason, no one trespassed on their grounds for fear of attracting the wrath of a clan of mind readers, even if very few of them ever inherited the ability to walk through another’s mind. He’s a member of TI, he knows how to set his own humanity aside, and still, he gives pause at the explosive pain ricocheting up his side at the impact of a strike, the breath-stealing sting of broken ribs, the deafening crack of white lightning and the slick, coppery taste of blood.

He pulls away from that quickly - that isn’t what he’s here to see. He muddles through the tepid, lukewarm fragments of half-forgotten memories, the stream of consciousness parting like a river around a rock. 

And then it suddenly stops. 

No sensations to speak of. A tenebrous cavern of nothingness. No waterlogged memories to drag his feet through, just smooth, empty darkness. Not even echoes. 

How could there be _nothing?_

At one point, the memories just… start, unprompted. (A forest and sticky summer heat, trembling legs, the cold shiver of confusion-). And he feels like he’s _missing something,_ like there should be _more_ , something just out of his reach. He searches the black emptiness for what feels like hours and feels nothing but cold, right down to the marrow of his bones. There are no seals, even though this kind of wipe can only be deliberate, and it’s most certainly internal. He's never seen anything this precise before. The memories aren't hidden, or concealed. The memories _simply aren't there_. Nothing but sluggish, misplaced chakra pathways and the hot flashes of desert wind, the breeze through a forest, the cold, packed stone of mountains. 

He pulls away, grimacing as the connection shatters like glass. Sasuke is shivering with exertion, a bead of sweat rolling down his jaw as he strains to keep upright. 

He glances back at the Hokage, and shakes his head near imperceptibly. 

He offers what he hopes is a reassuring smile at Sasuke. “That was the worst of it. Try to get some sleep.”

The three of them walk back outside, past the ANBU posted at the door which seems like overkill for their small, gaunt-looking, enigma of a patient, and he shakes his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it - if the memories were wiped, I would still be able to see, you can’t get rid of everything, there would still be traces, but his memories are just… gone.”

The Hokage barely pauses. “Inoichi, you aren’t to speak of this. We'll have a fuinjutsu expert come by later to look for the evidence of seals. Be on call.”

He works his jaw. “Of course, sir.”

Naruto is hardly twenty minutes into reading and he already has a headache. 

He turns another flimsy page - so thin he wonders how they cut it at all - packed with tiny text and diagrams depicting the ancient mask-making traditions of the Hisakawa clan of the Shikita forest, then he catches the words: the Otsutsuki clan. 

He pauses, and scans the page. 

“A clan as feared as the Uchiha or Senju…” He drags his finger over the block of text. “For both their fearsome ability to manipulate their skeletal structure to weaponize their bones-” He shudders. “-and their ferocious belligerence. The clan couldn’t be convinced to join a village, and instead met its extinction at the hands of Kirigakure Shinobi shortly after the official formation of the village…”

“Jeez.” He shakes his head. “Believed themselves to be descendants of goddess... Kaguya Otsutsuki…?” 

_“Unfortunately, the warring states era was responsible for the destruction of many invaluable works of literature - both fictional and historical. Salvaged documents corroborate the existence of a feudal princess by the same name, but this does not seem to be the figure referenced in their mythology.”_

He stares at a painting of a woman with the pale eyes of the Byakugan and a Sharingan eye - or something that resembles one - in her forehead, two horns extending from her forehead, long, white hair spilling over her shoulders. 

_“There are two conflicting source materials which historians believe caused the schism in the religious practices of the clan, marking the point at which half of the clan, believing the doctrine of Kaguya, the mother of all chakra, departed from the ancestral home, and would eventually meet their end at the hand of Kirigakure Shinobi. The remaining half of the clan followed Hagoromo’s teachings, believing him to be the father of ninjutsu and referring to him as ‘The Sage of Sixth Paths' in their religious texts.”_

Hagoromo?

The name almost feels… familiar. 

He flips to the page listed next to the name, and finds himself face to face with a near identical replication of the man he’d seen in his dream. 

He reads quicker, and there are words balanced on the tip of his tongue, just out of his reach-

_“-the remaining half of the clan eventually fell victim to a terminal illness spread down the Takahaba river by traders that lead to their ultimate destruction-”_

He skips to the next paragraph. _“-henceforth followed the prophet Tomiichi and her teachings, the revered word of Hagoromo. Here, statues indicate that Kaguya became synonymous with the fabled Jubi that terrorized the countryside before Hagoromo, the blessed son, killed her for her crimes and broke her spirit into nine pieces which would then become the tailed beasts. It became their sacred duty to restore peace within the world and protect the hidden temple where the Kyuubi was rumored to be held.”_

Hagoromo was- what? 

He remembers… something. He remembers the coursing of fire through his veins as the sealing mark was burned into his skin, he remembers looking into the eyes of an unearthly beast, the lashing of tails as the earth cracked and rivers of blood filled the spaces between-

_“It is believed that Kaguya’s depiction - when taking the form of a woman - of possessing both the Byakugan and Sharingan existed as a way of likening the Jubi, a horrifying monster, to the newly formed Uchiha and Hyuga clans, and to inspire fear in their visual prowess.”_

The Jubi - the nine pieces fit together into their whole - the creature that destroyed the world-

_“Hagoromo has been confirmed to exist, and invented many of the foundations of modern ninjutsu and senjutsu. The fundamentalist branch, following the belief of the god-tree, believed he and Kaguya to be the origin of all chakra. For conquering the Jubi and coining of senjutsu among other powerful techniques, both sects refer to him as ‘The Sage of Sixth Paths’. Many objects central to the religious practices of the clan included a particular emblem - now confirmed the be the Yin and Yang symbol, misinterpreted by many to have been used only in marriage ceremonious. Texts concerning the symbol claim that it represents the power Hagoromo used to seal the evil of the world - the Jubi - away.”_

Like the mark on his hand.

He slams the textbook shut.

(“Sasuke! The infinite Tsukuyomi-!”)

He tucks the book under his arm, heart pounding beneath his skin, and leaves as quickly as he can. 

“You missed another clan meeting.” Shikamaru points out as they stroll down the street, his hands folded behind his head. “Your Mom told me to yell at you.”

Ino rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I tried telling Mayumi that and then she started yelling about ‘sick leave’ and being ‘understaffed’ and then gave me three more shifts. She’s all stressed out because of the new patient. S-rank, and confidential. I’m not allowed to handle any of the files. She was muttering about chakra displacement all day. I’d like to see _you_ try to convince her to give me the day off.”

“Too much work.”

She jabs him in the ribs with an elbow. “Yeah, as if anyone would ever let you work in a hospital. It must be a pretty big secret. Not even the secretaries are talking about it, and a bunch of med nin signed off so they wouldn’t have to take the job - they only get that scared when it’s a member of ANBU.” 

She understands why Mayumi’s been so stressed and all. Being the head nurse is difficult under any circumstances, but she has a feeling it has something to do with reigning in the hoards of skittish med nin, made wary by the cautionary tales of past experiences with ANBU agents, or the extra attention the hospital is getting this morning. Ino isn’t stupid - she knows something is up, with all the seals and the secrecy and the way her Dad was looking at her this morning as she slipped out the door. She hadn't even been able to pry any information from the secretary this morning, and she’s usually apt to talk about anything (so long as the names of the patient wasn’t revealed, of course).

“What was the meeting about, anyway?”

Shikamaru shrugs. “None of my business.”

“Bullshit. Everything's Nara business. It was about the spring festival, wasn’t it?”

“Yep.”

She groans. “Oh, Mom’s gonna be _so_ mad at me. Ren’s getting married next week and I promised him I would take care of the flower arrangements.”

The spring festival is the celebration that Winter is over - an ancient tradition carried over from the northern mountain range near the Land of Wolves (where the Inuzuka and Hatake clans are from, coincidentally), where the Winters were much more harsh and the Spring was all the more welcomed. Here, the weather is famously mild, with the Winter being more wet than cold. Traditional marriages were most common in the Spring - and you could ask the spirits to bless the union during the celebration. Your family is invited, by the way.”

Shikamaru nods absentmindedly. “My Mom told me yesterday. She’s already thinking about what flowers to bring.”

Ino deliberates. “Something red, or pink. Choji’s bringing white carnations.”

“So,” She drawls. “How come you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t usually walk me back. So, what’s the deal?”

He sighs. “I’m not supposed to tell you this-”

“But?” She knows very well that the Nara deal in information - they, at least, understand the weight of knowledge. She’d shared Ren’s engagement early, and Shikamaru, for all his laziness, is still a clan hair and understands a clan’s honor.

“But,” He agrees. “You didn’t hear this from me. Something’s going on with the Uchiha clan. Dad was talking about them earlier.”

“The Hyuga trying to put another leash on them?”

Ino wouldn’t consider the Yamanaka _allies_ of the Uchiha, necessarily, but they did have a common enemy in the Hyuga. Hinata was nice and all, but Ino knows too much about the political subterfuge of the clans to try getting involved with her.

“That’d be easier to deal with.” He mutters. “One of the Uchiha Elders was seen at the hospital, and a clan healer, too. One of theirs is in there.”

She frowns. “One of theirs?” 

“They don’t have their healers treat just anyone, you know.”

“What are you getting at? So it’s an Uchiha.” She scours her memory for who it might be. Itachi, if she were to wager a guess. Clan heir and prodigy, he would warrant that kind of sealing. Maybe Shisui, too. 

“Itachi was supposed to represent the Uchiha at the meeting with us last week.” He continues. “But apparently he’s been gone for three weeks. Which I told him, but Dad still thinks there’s something going on. He’s banned from going to the hospital because he won’t mind his own business.” 

“You’re the only person in your family that knows how to do that.”

He grins. “Yeah, it’s a shame.”

But that was a little suspicious. If Shikako thought something was wrong, something usually was. 

But Shikamaru is quick to meander away from the subject again; his debt has been paid.

“So, are the Inuzuka invited?”

“Not if they bring the dogs.”

She and Kiba, despite being clan heirs and therefore expected to get along, haven’t been friends since Akamaru peed in her flower pot. 

Shikamaru snickers. She pushes him into the storm drain.

When Sasuke wakes up, it’s nearly dark. He glances out the window at the sun, hovering just over the horizon, and the hawks take his momentary preoccupation to appear in his hospital room, thereby setting off who knows how many seals. 

_“You’re okay!”_ Aya exclaims, tugging at his hair. _“I’m glad the scythe man didn’t eat you.”_

“Thank you.” He replies flatly, and doesn't bother wondering where she got 'eat' from. “Me too.”

Sukai bats him on the head for making her worry and Chiha is on his lap crying and he’s not quite sure what to do about that and then the nurse barges in and yells at him for a good five minutes about the ‘animal policy’ and how having summons in his room is 'not acceptable', and Sukai shreds the curtains out of spite and the nurse is _screaming_ and Itachi rushes in to check on them and-

He _laughs._

They’ve been standing outside the hospital room her son is being kept in (for observation, all the twitchy med nin assure her), for upwards of _seven hours_ and with each passing second Mikoto is more and more inclined to give in to her ‘Uchiha nature’ and set fire to the next person who tries to tell her that she isn’t allowed to see him. Fugaku keeps a grounding hand on her shoulder as the next one practically sprints around her. Someone’s heard a few too many old wives tales.

When Itachi appears in the doorway, looking more exhausted than she’s seen him in a long time, she starts forward and takes his hand, dragging him into the room, and her breath catches in her throat.

Her son, caught in the process of nudging feathers off his bed, stares at her with wide eyes. His hair is overgrown and tangled, there’s something about the way he holds himself, like he’s appraising the situation, the way his eyes flick to the door, the window, and maybe it shouldn’t be surprising, considering what he’s been doing, but-

She rushes forward and wraps her arms around him. 

_“Mom?”_ His voice breaks on the syllable, hands hovering, as if afraid to return the gesture. She pulls him closer. She never thought she would see him again but he’s _right here,_ different but very much the same. Her son. And all the frustration boils over and she sinks further into the embrace, tugging Fugaku into their awkward hug when she notices him hovering, too stiff and formal and with no idea what to do with his recently discovered son, and then drags Itachi into it too. 

It takes him longer than it should to relax, to lean into the touch. 

“I’m glad to have you back.” She says into his hair. Tentatively, he lowers his head onto her shoulder, and for a moment, the world is a little less broken. 

Yugito crouches in the shadows, waiting as Matatabi directs her further away from the valley and up the steep mountain path.

“This way.” She rumbles, low and smooth. “You aren’t far.”

She likes it here. It reminds her of her home, before she became a Jinchuuriki and it was taken from her. She’s been back once, but it had been out of necessity more than anything else. Furuhama was a quiet, friendly, comparatively warm place. Divorced from the war, before she was taken, full of teosinte-buckwheat fields and high stone walls to keep the ice-slides out of the flowering daylillies. They gave Kumo what it asked and Kumo had continued to take more than it gave. 

The crumbling steps fall away beneath her. 

“No one has been to this place in a very long time.” Matatabi says, and she can almost feel the flare of fire down her spine, like flint striking steel. “It is an unfortunate truth, ever since that damned Senju man ripped my siblings and I from our resting places as compensation…”

“Hashirama?”

The fire prickles and cracks; curious, angry, apathetic. Patient.

“Yes. After the farse with Kurama, we were taken from our temples. There, ahead.”

The temple stands on a platform of stone, overlooking the meadow below. Opulent pillars of polished marble stare back at her, some edges cracked and crumbling. Wistful and haunting in its solitude. Where Matatabi was intended to be kept.

“Why did you want to bring me here?”

“To test a theory. You will find the walls filled with the blither of that man.” She shakes her head fondly. “Only those I permit may enter the territory. There is something I wish to see. Something is… amiss with the spirit realm. A disturbance I haven’t felt in quite a while. That boy… The Uchiha was a catalyst.”

Yugito climbs back onto the path, before she stops abruptly, heels digging into the ground.

“There’s someone here.”

“Impossible-” Ears flattening, a conflagration of fire raising like hackles from her shoulders. Blue fire dances in the air, a spinning inferno hovering above the dry grass. 

“Matatabi? What-?”

Something shifts in the darkness - rather, the shadows themselves move. Matatabi hisses like the whine of boiling water. 

_“You.”_ Bared fangs, lashing tails. Her heartbeat thunders in her ears as the thing smiles - one half black and the other white, rising from the ground. 

“Matatabi.” It says, the warring cadences of its voice painful. “It's been quite a while.”

“How have you come back?” She demands. “What have you done to Isobu?”

“Your brother is lucky that Yagura did not survive that ordeal.” A glowing yellow eye flicks her way. “I wonder if you’ll be the same.”

Matatabi growls. “You vile creature, you have no power on these grounds, unless you intend to invoke the seals of protection. You are here because I allow it.” Yugito can feel her rage growing, like the fierce heat of a wildfire. Matatabi has only ever taken over once, and had promised never to do so again. _“Get out of my sight.”_

The creature smiles. “Your determination is admirable, your ability… less so. A shame I couldn't have gotten here sooner. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Nibi.”

She snarls, and the creature melts into the ground. 

Yugito slowly unlocks her stiff limbs, swallowing tightly. “Matatabi, what’s going on? What was that?” 

A sharp exhale, bared fangs, thick smoke. “A creature that has no business in this domain. Something not of this world. It must have tethered itself to something new.”

Yugito stares at the spot it disappeared. “You speak as if you know each other.” And then, “Is it the reason behind the disturbances?”

“I would not put it past the foul thing…” She snaps. “These walls are filled with protective seals. If we had gotten here any later..."

Yugito doesn't have to wonder what she means by that. 

"If he is active again… the last time he interfered Isobu was let loose upon the country, his Jinchuuriki killed. I must inform my siblings.”

“Kurama won’t be able to hear you.” Yugito points out. Hidden beneath such a powerful seal for the damage it dealt the village, he had been cut off from communication. 

“Then we must work around it.” Fire crackling. Embers on the wind. “I fear this is not the last we’ll see him.”

She watches the unmoving grass, where sculpted shadow moved, and can’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kicked my ass and stole my honor. There was supposed to be more but the chapter was getting too long, also I was very much caught up in the worldbuilding possibilities for a certain island village.
> 
> -Kaguya is now a myth, and Hagoromo is, too, to an extent, but Kaguya is completely myth, will be elaborated on more later  
> -The idea of Iruka running an orphanage brings me indescribable joy  
> -The Yamanaka, Hatake, and Inuzuka clans are all from the North  
> -I thought the idea of the Nara basically use information as currency was a fun concept. First time writing Shikamaru, that was interesting  
> -The subject of chakra nature will be coming up again, I've fitted it so that it's a more nuanced concept. I was trying to research it and I still have no idea how it works, the whole 'Kaguya is the origin of chakra' didn't really help. Chakra natures as far as I can tell aren't that important outside of the jutsu themselves considering people have mastered all five elemental techniques, so I tied it in with personality and environment a little bit.  
> -Uchiha group hug!  
> -Zetsu is here to ruin my happy ending look what you did. Yugito get the weed whacker 
> 
> Anyways thanks for reading :)


	13. Orbiter

Yugito crouches in the shadows of the temple, a flashlight between her teeth as she looks over the engravings on the wall, shallow enough that she can fit a fingernail into the cracks and no more. Strange seals and characters and drawings. 

“That thing outside.” She says, awkward around the flashlight. “Why is it here?”

“Careful what questions you ask.” Matatabi warns. “Try again.”

She sighs. “Is now really the time to be fickle?”

She rumbles with laughter. “When isn’t there a time? Try again, Yugito.”

“What are its intentions?”

“Better. He is a parasite. I believe he refers to himself as Zetsu. I have not encountered him in a long while. If only it had stayed that way.”

“You mentioned something with Isobu?” She traces the strange swirling pattern. 

“His Jinchuuriki was mysteriously killed. Isobu was set upon the countryside. It is his work.”

“To remain in this world, all of us need something to anchor us.”

“You’re saying he’s like you?”

“We aren’t comparable. But in terms of origin, I acquiesce. Zetsu is much older than I, and certainly isn’t anything that comes from this world.” 

“So the question is… what’s he anchored to…”

Matatabi growls. Fire crackles and pops. “This land that the Sage has gifted me. It holds many secrets. I had hoped to uncover something of the Rinnegan.” 

She summons a fire from her palm, setting aside the flashlight. “What, specifically?”

“Something is unbalanced.” She replies. “Perhaps this is how Zetsu has slipped back into the cracks of this world.”

She turns left, scouring the dusty, empty floor, and kneels at the corner. The spiral pattern of the Rinnegan, barbed tomoe. Text which she can’t read. “I think I found something.”

Ino might be willing to admit that Shikamaru’s theory has some merit to it.

She’s only taking two shifts today because she has to make the flower arrangements for the wedding later, relegated to filing duty because Mayumi was in a bad mood and leaving halfway through the day definitely hadn't improved it.

She may have looked through a few files, the ones detailing which supplies needed to be brought where and the corresponding price for each, and the room housing the mysterious patient who is possibly an Uchiha is apparently in need of a few things. That file isn’t actually supposed to be in this bin, but the bureaucratic error that goes on is frankly terrifying considering this is a hospital, and she’s not surprised when she digs it out of the pile. The room itself warrants S-class protection, so usually only a certain group of approved people are allowed access, but short-staffing calls for certain regulations to be lifted, and most ANBU don’t know what the colors on their uniforms mean.

She snaps the file shut and pushes it into its box, docking the cart in the storage closet. She’s the only one on rotation right now, so… 

Sometimes her mother likes to joke that she should’ve been born a Nara. This is probably why. 

She smiles sweetly at the receptionist as she passes, ducking into the medical closet - the extra keys are always hidden in one of the drawers because Chie always loses the ones she’s supposed to keep on her. Time to make a detour.

She glances both ways before darting down the hallway, ducking beneath the tape and making for the sealed room.

The ANBU guard stares at her dubiously. 

“I’m division C, I have clearance.” She says, confident that they’ll have no idea what she’s talking about. “I’m here to deliver some materials.” Which she shows, and they make note of on their chart, and, finding them to line up, allows her inside. She isn’t expecting to see a kid. 

She _certainly_ isn’t expecting to see the kid who saved them in the Land of Steam, but he’s right there, very clearly Uchiha (and that would explain their involvement with the whole procedure), and she catalogs all disappearances she can think of. Didn’t the clan head originally have two sons and not one? Her father had talked about it for _weeks._ The village was in uproar. But no, that's ridiculous. 

He’s sealed, shackled to the bed, as is protocol when administering medicine of any kind - just in case there were any adverse reactions that could result in someone dead. He’s also staring at her, dark circles under his eyes, blinking away the glassy disorientation of sleep. 

“You-” She blinks.

He stares back, steadfast. “No one is allowed in here.”

_“Hospital staff_ is.” She shrugs off her shock, and sets down her tray next to the bed. He stares at her the whole time.

He was the same age as she was - did he really warrant so much security? Then again, if he really could hold his own against the Akatsuki members that had attacked them, then he’s no pushover. It’s still strange, though, to think that this was the person that was hunting the Akatsuki. That he’s actually a kid. A _missing Uchiha_ kid, on top of that.

But who? There's no way he can possibly be what she's thinking. He’s not from the village, she’s never seen him before, so-

“I never thanked you for saving us back there. So, thank you. I’m Ino. You got a name?”

He scoffs. “Does it matter?”

“It’d be nice to have something to call you.” 

He doesn’t dignify that with an answer.

She looks at him again. Clearly exhausted, dishevelled, stiff as a board, watching her… he carries himself a lot like Kakashi, she decides, just more open about his distrust. Kakashi immediately looks for exits upon entering a room, too.

“So… fighting Akatsuki. If you’re that strong it’s no wonder the clan wants to sink their claws into you.”

He glowers. “Are you here for a reason?”

She doesn’t let his discourtesy bother her. “Unless there’s something else…?”

But if the clan heads themselves had been here... no, it wasn't _necessarily_ true. There was no way-

“You’re Itachi’s brother, aren’t you.” She realizes. Her suspicion is confirmed when he doesn’t meet her eyes. “Holy _shit._ You’ve been missing for what - seven years?”

The second heir of the Uchiha clan back in the village? Why wasn’t the Hokage publicizing it? Hell, why weren’t the Uchiha parading him around town?

He - Sasuke? Was that his name? - grimaces. “You’re not allowed to tell anyone.”

Obviously, if his existence was being kept under wraps, but, still. 

“I won’t.” She says. “I owe you for saving us.”

“I didn’t.” He says firmly, as if angry at her for even implying it. “I couldn’t let the Akatsuki get the Jinchuuriki.”

“Well.” She points out. “Then you didn’t have to check on Kakashi and Sakura and then tell me where they were. You could’ve just left.”

He bristles. 

“But whatever your reasons, you _did_ save us. So I owe you. And now I need to go before the head Nurse realizes I snuck in here.”

“You _snuck_ in here?” His eyes flick towards the ANBU guard.

“The best lies are grounded in truth.” She replies, positively delighted. “Bye!”

She leaves the room and half jogs down the hallway before turning the corner and nearly running straight into Mayumi, who squints down at her as if she was the source of all evil in the world. 

“Yamanaka.” She starts, her voice thin. “Weren’t you assigned to filing work?”

She pins on her best sheepish smile. “Sorry, Chie forgot her keys in the bathroom up here and asked me to go get them for her.” She dangles the spare key in her hands and Mayumi frowns, but acquiesces.

“Fine. Get back to work. And get those keys back to her!”

“Yes Ma’am!”

She turns down the hallway, exhaling. 

Shikamaru is going to lose his _mind._

The Fuinjutsu expert they called in has the brightest red hair he’s ever seen and she hasn’t stopped talking in the past five minutes they’ve been introduced. At some point last night they must have herded his parents out so that they could run a few more tests, and Itachi had been delegated to stay with him. Currently perched in the chair in the corner of the room, watching them with thinly veiled amusement. 

She introduces herself as Eiko, grinning widely as she takes the seat next to his bed. 

“Sorry for the delay.” She smiles sheepishly, tilting her head to the side - kind of like Naruto. That parallel is vaguely disorientating. “I’m on call, but there’s not a lot of people who learn about Fuinjutsu, so I’m the only one they can call, and I was on a trip with my husband to see the shrine on the Hontoro river. I’m actually from Uzushio. Most people haven’t heard of it, since it got destroyed, but they put up a temple there for all the people immigrating.”

Maybe the babbling does have an ulterior motive, because he’s so preoccupied with trying to keep up that he doesn’t notice the uncomfortable prickling in his hand until it evolves into pain that makes him want to curl his toes up, strange, invasive pain, like having your fingernails torn off. The point of a needle against exposed nerve endings. Unsealing anything is _much_ worse than getting a seal placed. 

“Sorry.” She says. “Just a little more. Talking helps keep your mind off of how uncomfortable it is. This is why you shouldn’t play around with the characters of the seal. You can get seriously hurt.” She pauses. “This pattern. I recognize it. It’s… this is a Jinchuuriki’s seal, isn’t it?”

She pulls his hand closer, and he smothers the impulse to yank it away.

“You wrote this on yourself? Where’d you learn this?”

“Matatabi.” He says, perfectly flat. “The Nibi.”

And watches her sputter. “You met the _Nibi?_ It has a name?”

“Yes.”

She shakes her head. “That’s - incredible! I’ve never met any tailed beasts. Though it’s probably easier for you, being an Uchiha.” She continues to talk, marvelling over the craftsmanship. “These seals are some of the most advanced to exist. A lot of sealing techniques came from Uzushio, we’re actually the ones that made the seal for the Kyuubi. So… the Nibi showed you this?” She squints down at it. “Well, it’s definitely doing something to your chakra. Redirecting it. I guess the principal is the same…”

“She said it was to redirect chakra away from my eye.”

“That makes sense.” She agrees, tracing a finger counter-clockwise around the seal. He grits his teeth. “I should be able to modify this to make it work better. You want a balance - right now the seal only has one direction, so it might actually end up drawing too much chakra away.”

The med nin at his bedside edges forward nervously. If he so much as looks at him wrong, he’ll probably pass out.

“I was asked to tell you that he has a form of retrograde amnesia. Since it’s such a large span of time and it hasn’t interfered with his ability to make new memories or remember things before the memory block occurred it can’t be natural. It’s too clean to be anything but intentional.”

She looks at him curiously, but refrains from asking. “You want me to see if it was because of a seal?”

“Please.”

“Hold on, kid.” She probes for anything that might indicate one, eyebrows drawing together as she does so. He holds perfectly, uncomfortably still, for several minutes before she pulls away. “It doesn’t look like anything’s there. If it’s like you said, it could’ve been a jutsu.” There’s sympathy on her face. He scowls at her.

“Sorry I can’t help with that, but I can do something about that seal…”

She adjusts the seal on his hand and he feels it in his bones when it’s done.

“There!” She sits back. “That should hold until you’re back in working order.” 

He studies the new symbol on his hand. He doesn’t really understand the application of seals. 

“Alright. If that’s all-” The nurse nods, she waves goodbye, and then she’s out the door.

They have questions for him. First, the doctors look him over again, one last time, and question the burn marks on his hands that come from the overuse of Chidori, and then the little white scars scattered across his collarbone, and he blames both on Deidara. Eventually they bring Ibiki in for questioning, and Itachi is forced out of the room, and for all the man is trying to avoid looking intimidating, Sasuke still bristles at the sight of him.

Head of TI, this is probably the man who would’ve interrogated and killed him if he had been handed back to the village.

His hands are folded, raised scar tissue wrapping around his hands, and then the questions start:

_How have you been tracking the Akatsuki? When did you start fighting them? Who have you fought? Why? What Akatsuki members do you know of? How did you come across this information? Does anyone else know this information? Were you helped by anyone?_

He answers exactly like he did Itachi - that he came across the information incidentally, at first, and then committed himself to destroying the Akatsuki, not realizing there was anything even to go back to.

In the end, he seems satisfied, and he can stop trying to push himself back into the headboard.

A nurse comes back at some point after, Itachi and his parents in tow, and announces that he can go home. 

Leaving the hospital is a strange experience. He’s boxed between Itachi and his mother, the passerby staring openly as he’s paraded down the street, the missing son, brought home. The eyes on his back make his skin crawl. 

Konoha is just like he remembers it. The street is crowded with vendors peddling their wares. Necklaces looped on pegs made from blown glass or coral with gold plated hooks, peach pits strung on twine to ward off spirits, gemstone engagement bands. Jade and alabaster ornaments, some carved into figurines, sit proudly on counters. Stands selling gyoza next to one selling plastic bags of bright colored cotton candy. Everything from the smell of oiled, roasting chestnuts to charcoal and vegetable oil is the exact same.

Itachi shifts in front of him, as if trying to protect him from the probing gazes of civilians.

This time of year should be the spring festival for the Yamanaka - it overlaps with the Uchiha festival that should happen in a few weeks, that hasn’t happened in years because he was the only Uchiha left.

It’s jarring. He can’t quite fall into pace with the rest of them, the family he didn’t think he would ever have again. 

“We’ll have to get you to a tailor…” His mother says, and he can’t swallow the feeling grating on his nerves. Like he’ll reach out and it won’t even be real. Like if he opens his mouth then this daydream will dissolve. “Your father and I set up your bedroom again.”

Like it was his bedroom that fell into derelict, this time, and not the house, not the compound. 

Coming home is like trying to swallow his own tongue. 

Because home is different, because the compound looks different with all its lights on, children splashing in the river and running through the streets, paper lanterns hanging from every awning they could be suspended from. It’s almost unrecognizable, with its uncracked stone and bright paint and bubbling laughter. Full of people he will inevitably be reintroduced to.

Itachi’s hand is grounding on his shoulder, something that sends sparks down his spine, and he wants to whirl around snarling, reaching for a sword that isn’t there because it was so broken they didn’t bother giving it back to him. But it’s just Itachi, and all the laughter is just sound, and all the lights are just that - light. 

He’s being ridiculous. There are no monsters here.

“This is probably a lot.” He says, slow, soft, patient. “They’re excited that you’re back, is all. We already explained the situation. You won’t have to talk to anyone tonight.”

He doesn’t really have the time to be talking to anyone. He needs to address the biggest problem first, that being the Akatsuki. Han is already dead, and he doesn’t trust that Yugito is staying far enough away from them, and he doesn’t trust that they haven’t already killed other Jinchuuriki. It’s not like anyone would tell him if they did. 

He’s not sure what the village is going to do with him at all, actually. He doubts that they’ll let him go so easily. But he’s left once, and he could do it again, but this time…

No, there’s no point even entertaining the possibility of staying any longer than he has to, because no one understands what the Akatsuki will do if they get all the Jinchuuriki. He still isn’t in any shape to go around picking fights with ANBU or Akatsuki for that matter, but he will be soon, and he needs to decide what to do. 

The eyes are almost worse here. Shisui is waiting for them on the porch, and he nearly drives his heels into the ground before Itachi nudges him forward, and they’re talking but the sound doesn’t quite match up with their mouths, and they must be mistaking his silence for fear, or apprehension, or something equally useless. 

There’s a certain level of… detachment, as he studies his own home. The exact same layout, except the kitchen is filled with proper cooking utensils and not whatever he had figured out how to use, and the sink doesn’t drip and there’s no dust anywhere.

He’s stuck staring, half breathing, when he hears someone whisper, “He’ll get used to it soon.” Behind him. He hikes up the stairs, two at a time, whips around the corner to see his room, panels of amber light spilling through the windows. The stupid cat plushie he hasn’t touched since he was five sits on the bed, the figurines still on the shelves. 

He stares at it, rotating it around in his hands. He can feel the pairs of eyes watching from the doorway, patient. 

He stands there for a long time after they’ve gone, something about him needing to sleep. He ends up on the bed, staring down at it as if he could find any flaws, any inaccuracies. There are none, because there wouldn’t be, would there?

He’s the only thing out of place in this room.

Ino paces the cement near the docks while Shikamaru lies under the shade the wet market stand casts, an arm thrown over his eyes. She toes a pothole filled with a rainbow oil-slick and stares at the slow moving boats drifting across the lake. 

“So,” She drawls. “I found out some things.”

He opens one eye to stare at her, disinterested, before closing it again. “Hm.”

She knows he wants to hear it, even if he pretends he doesn’t. She also saw that the kid - Sasuke - was released from the hospital earlier today, so the rumors are probably circulating right now. “Itachi had a brother, right? A brother our age? Well,” She grins, “What if I were to tell you that that’s the kid who was in the hospital? The long lost second heir.” She flops down into the grass next to him. “Sounds like a bad play.”

Shikamaru sighs heavily. “...troublesome.”

She pokes him in the shoulder. “What? That’s it?”

He rolls onto his stomach. She sighs. “You’re no fun.”

“There’s gonna be _more_ clan politics now.” He groans.

“As if there isn't a lot already.” She scoffs. “The Hyuga are trying to get legislation to cut the Uchiha’s paychecks again. Why do they hate each other so much?”

“Magic eye pissing contest.”

“Yeah, okay.”

She stares up at the clouds. “I promised Sakura I’d meet her soon.”

He mumbles something suspicious into the grass. 

She jabs him in the ribs. “Shut up. I’m leaving now.”

She brushes her skirt off and climbs up the hill.

Sakura combs her fingers through her hair. Short hair is more pragmatic, she’ll admit. Easier to maintain and nobody can grab onto it should they get too close, but she still hasn’t quite figured out what to do with it. It’s not long enough to pull back into a ponytail but it’s not short enough that it’ll stay out of her eyes easily. Most of the time she just has to settle for shoving it back behind her ears and hoping for the best.

Ino meets her at the edge of town and they stroll through the streets, pointing out the wares on display. There are flowers to mark the Yamanaka-owned stalls, some selling candied apricot and apples. 

Ino is picking through a selection of necklaces, a few of them with the big dark beads from Suna, and has been for the last fifteen minutes. 

“Hey! Are you almost done?” She calls, and winces. Yamato has been having her work on taijutsu a little bit more, and her arms are so sore she thinks they might fall off if she isn’t careful. Ino calls her over, holding up a gemstone-set bracelet.

“Do you like this?” She asks, clipping it around her wrist. “It’s pretty, but like, when would I wear it?”

Sakura tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You look good in anything. And this is a festival. Aren’t you supposed to waste money on things you’re never gonna use?”

“Good point.” She nods, slapping her money down on the counter before grabbing her wrist. “C’mon, let’s go get some food!”

Sakura ends up with an armful of cotton candy as bright pink as her hair and Ino holds a skewer of dango. 

“I don’t think the fireworks are for a few more days…” She says. “We just kinda combine them when the Uchiha have their festival.”

“Then…” She stalls. “We should watch them. Um. By the water.” Fireworks look better from there, right?

Luckily Ino doesn’t laugh, because of course she wouldn’t. Ino is her friend. “Sure, forehead.” She bumps their shoulders together, and then seems to remember something. 

“Crap. I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago.”

She swallows a tuft of cotton candy. “Why?”

“I got grounded because I had a shift and bailed on the wedding planning. Even though I made it all up yesterday.” She stands up, raking her fingers through her hair and dropping her dango in the nearest garbage can. “I gotta go. Bye!”

Sakura watches her dart down the street. “Bye.”

Naruto reads all day and into the night, which is more reading than he’s probably ever done in his life. He’s never had a good enough reason before. He thinks that recurring dreams of a supposedly mythological figure with no prior exposure to that figure coupled with the strange mark that appeared in conjunction with said dreams is motivation enough. 

The problem is he can’t tell which sect of the religion this Hagoromo is referring to, though, which is… unfortunate, because that either means the world is going to end by an angry goddess or that the Jubi is actually a natural, sentient manifestation of chakra that may or may not have come from the spirit world, but one way or another, the world is going to end. If he has the sealing mark - the yang mark - he supposes this is heading towards the Jubi path (though that might also imply that the Jubi is just some alternate version of the vengeful chakra goddess, which is also not great), and that means that there’s supposed to be someone who has a matching yin mark. Unfortunately, he has no idea who it might be and no idea how to go about asking. 

And then, how closely is he supposed to follow the mythos?

He doesn’t _know,_ and he’s ready to tear his hair out.

(Not to mention the visions that keep trying to creep in, something he knows the name of, just on the tip of his tongue - they want to be called _memories._ )

He needs to talk to someone. Kakashi might know something. Then again, he’d promised to help train him and Ino and then immediately dumped them on another Jonin who was somehow even more of a loser than Kakashi himself at the first opportunity. Iruka could help, maybe… 

He glares out of his dark window, and then down at the stupid mark on his hand. 

And he can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. 

Sasuke wakes up early, in his own bed, and nearly activates Chidori in his panic. He doesn’t, but it’s a close thing. 

He flings the covers off of him like they burn, and slides off his bed. It’s still dark. His parents will still be asleep. Itachi is in his room down the hall.

This can’t be real. 

He’s thought about this for every day since the massacre and now that he has it he doesn’t even know what to do. Or what to say. He doesn’t know how to be the kid they lost. Because that’s what they want, and that’s what they expect, and if he wants to stay, that’s what he has to be. And he _isn’t._

He’s a creature of habit, born and bred of violence, for violence. It’s a language he understands. He has his purpose, a purpose he can’t exist outside of: _get rid of the Akatsuki._ Now his family is back, and that complicates everything. 

He doesn’t want to think. He doesn’t want to be here, which is fucking _stupid_ because this is the only thing he’s wanted for years. Without another thought he hurls himself out the window and into the maze of dark streets, but not dark and empty. 

He doesn’t stop until he makes it to the training grounds. He doesn’t have a sword anymore but that doesn’t mean he can’t skewer the wood pillars with Chidori, and it takes even longer to realize he’s being tailed by a crow. It flutters to the ground beside him, head cocked to the side, too-sharp eyes glittering. He glares. It hops closer. He curls his lip at it and turns his attention back to the target.

He probably shouldn’t be using Chidori anywhere someone can see him. He has no doubt that would raise some eyebrows. It sparks in his hand twice before bisecting the hunk of wood, leaving it blackened around the edges. He itches with nervous energy, like electricity beneath his skin. He wants something to fight.

The lodgings where the Suna shinobi are being kept aren’t far. He can see the fine arches of the wood from over the trees. He should do something about that, too - because the invasion should be happening soon. He has to wonder about Orochimaru’s intentions this time, though, since he isn’t the target. He’s probably found someone else he wants to use as a vessel. But he should still have a few weeks.

He does wonder how the matchups turned out this time, though. 

The crow keens. He ignores it.

“You’re out here early, aren’t you?”

He whirls around to see none other than Temari, the ends of her hair dripping. Her eyes flick to his waist. “You lost your sword.”

“It got destroyed.” He says. 

“Running lightning through it will do that.” She agrees, and kneels next to the crow, extending a finger that it regards curiously. “You have crow summons too?”

“My brother’s.”

“Hm. What’s its name?”

He scowls. “It’s a crow. It doesn’t have a name.”

“Then what do you call it?”

“I don’t know.” He snaps. “Crow.”

She snorts, scratching its head while it preens. “How original.” She glances up before he has the chance to continue fuming. “I met your brother - Itachi, right? Said you’d been missing for a while. At least you got back.”

He glares a moment longer before sitting next to her before summoning Chiha. Temari watches him curiously as he does so. 

_“Sasuke!”_ She chirps. _“You’re out of the hospital!”_

“Hn.”

_“Weren’t they supposed to fix your chakra?”_

“It takes time.” She seems to accept this answer. “Go make sure Yugito is alive. She should still be up near the mountains.”

_“Yugito? The Jinchuuriki?”_ He hums and runs his fingers through her feathers as she stretches her wings. _“Okay! I’ll do that!”_

“If you see any others, them too. Stay out of the way of the Akatsuki.”

_“I will!”_ She reassures, and darts into the air. Temari watches her go with a raised eyebrow, but has the grace not to ask. 

“There’ve been no other attacks.” Temari says. “Gaara is safe.”

“They’ll come back for him at some point.” He replies. “They have to.”

She hesitates, for just a second. “The Jinchuuriki… are weapons.” She says eventually. “It makes sense that everyone wants them. I know you only protected Gaara to keep him away from the Akatsuki, but you didn’t do it out of self interest, and that’s the best he’s going to get.” 

She sighs. “He’s done a lot of harm. He’s going to do a lot more if I don’t do something.”

Vague enough that it could be a simple grievance, specific enough that he knows exactly what she’s implying. They’re being watched.

“I understand.” He replies. She glances at him. “Violence tends to escalate. It gets… blown out of proportion.” Then. “We should train together later. You’re taking the Chunin exams, right?” _We should talk somewhere isolated._

“Good idea.” She replies. She tilts her head slightly to the left, towards the trees. Sasuke can’t tell if anyone is there. He isn’t close enough. 

_“Sasuke!”_

He turns just in time to see Itachi, panic written in the lines of his face, walking towards them. 

"What is it?"

"You left without telling anyone." He says, a sigh. "You scared Mom nearly to death."

"Oh." He says after a minute. "... that wasn't my intention."

"I know." He reassures, and the crow at his feet climbs onto his shoulder. "I know this is a difficult transition, but if you're going somewhere _please_ tell us beforehand."

"... okay."

Itachi studies him for another minute. "You've been requested by the Elders. They want to discuss - and later we'll determine what your ranking should be."

Sasuke sighs and unfolds himself from the ground. "Then let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke's not handling this situation very well. Naruto's problems are boiling over and Sasuke's have been simmering so long he isn't even aware the stove is on. 
> 
> Most of this is setup for the... many things that happen next chapter, but I felt the need to look into the emotional ramifications of this on Sasuke a little more deeply and to develop some of the character relationships a little more. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	14. Solar Flare

Sasuke has only ever been in an empty meeting room. Staring down the Elders, expressions indiscernible behind their veils, a backdrop of roaring flames behind them, he finds that it feels significantly smaller. 

No one is allowed to give him council while awaiting their decree. Sitting on his knees, head bowed, he feels like he’s offering his neck to the guillotine.

“Sasuke Uchiha.” Haruhi says, her voice low and reedy. The controlled calm of the fire at her back belies her icy tone of voice. “We have several things to discuss. First, the matter of your eyes. Are you aware of the capabilities of your Mangekyo? Your medical reports claim that your ocular strain is negligent, so this is something you’ve acquired recently. Have you had the opportunity to test its full strengths? Occasionally, through the convergence of new chakra pathways, different techniques may be awoken.”

Nobody had thought to walk him through the proper etiquette for a meeting such as this. He’s not sure if he would have abided by those rules even if they had. 

He straightens, so as to glare at their veiled faces. Haruhi stiffens. The flames sputter, coals crackle.

“My chakra pathways are tangled.” He says, edging the frustration out of his voice. “I can only produce Amaterasu and Susano.”

“In your negligence, you have endangered the clan’s secrets. By failing to quench the flames of Amaterasu, you risk the knowledge of the Mangekyo spreading. Precious few have been blessed with a fully evolved Sharingan-”

‘Blessed’ is not the word he would use, having experienced the horrible grief and loathing that had followed Itachi’s death.

“-and that number would only dwindle if more were to know our secret. We guard this knowledge to prevent the theft of our eyes.”

“What do you know of the Mangekyo?” She turns a harsh gaze towards him - he can catch the red outline of her Sharingan through the thin material of the veil. “A grief so powerful as to evolve the Sharingan. It is not purely physiological. To maintain the Mangekyo, even with lost memories, as you so claim, would be impossible without at least subconscious memory of such an event. Whether you claim to remember or not, your eyes are insurmountable proof that your body remembers.”

He forces himself to relax. To unclench his hands. What power do they have over him, in the end?

“Inoichi cleared me.”

Her mouth tightens. “You truly remember nothing?”

“I have no reason to lie.”

The heat of the flames, lapping at the ceiling, tells him she believes otherwise. 

The second man speaks up. Asahi, his name is. “Onto the matter of your ranking. It would reflect poorly on both the village and the clan to admit that one of our own went undetected for so long, as well as painting you as a target - all the more, for being Uchiha. For this reason, you’ll be left out of the Bingo Book. This isn’t to imply that caricatures of you haven't already been created. Already Suna has linked you to Amaterasu, and associating such a thing with your position as an Uchiha could have dire consequences.

“Your physical state now dictates that you aren’t to undertake the ANBU test - as someone who has taken down S-class criminals, you’ve proven yourself to be a skilled fighter, but immediately promoting you to Jounin would be suspicious. As such, you’ll be assigned the Genin rank until further notice.”

Sasuke… hadn't considered this. He’s being _promoted,_ of all things? To Genin, of course, which leaves him with a limited amount of maneuverability, but there’s no reason to assign him to a team for any other reason than supervision. But while Genin have a narrow margin of accessibility both in and outside the village, they’re also the least bound by regulation.

“The label is temporary.” Asahi assures. “But we will not be disclosing your affiliation with the Akatsuki to the public. It would only foster distrust between the clans.”

Which they don’t need any more of.

“You aren’t to speak to anyone about these matters.”

There’s a stretch of silence. 

“Leave this meeting place.” Haruhi all but snarls, and for once, he’s quick to comply.

“What did the Elders want?” Itachi asks, his unsubtle non sequitur only a little jarring. His father went to work at some point, and his mother is cleaning the blades in the dojo, sharpening blunt edges against the wet stones she keeps under the floorboards. 

At least it shifts the conversation away from food. He’s been prescribed a diet to try and increase his red blood cell count to recover from the anemia that so often accompanied heavy blood loss, and Itachi has made it his life mission to adhere to it.

“Nothing.” The bottle of iron supplements mocks him from the corner of the table.

“Are you not allowed to talk about it?”

“Nothing that you don’t already know.” He clarifies. “They’re making me a Genin. They aren’t going after the Akatsuki.”

Which means he’s going to have to do something, if they’re adamant on keeping it that way. Useless, all of them. He peers into the dojo. The glare of the light catches off the silver edge of the blade. “Where can I get a new sword?”

Shisui pops in from the kitchen. “A sword? I can getcha one of those. Itachi isn’t allowed in the smithy because of a _certain incident_ … so he can’t take you.”

“Don’t.” Itachi grimaces.

“Itachi is really, really bad at smithing. Like, awful. So bad. Usually when someone’s bad at smithing they’re good at glassblowing - more delicate process - but, nope. Not good at that either. Oh, this one time, he was trying to make something for-”

_“Shisui.”_ He groans, and Shisui laughs. 

“Sorry, sorry. C’mon Sasuke, let’s go before it gets really hot.”

The air inside the blacksmith’s shop is hot and dry, the burning smell of a wildfire clinging to every soot-covered crevice. Towering stone walls, arching into a dome. Anything else would catch fire. It always used to intimidate him when he was younger. He’s never had the luxury of being inside. He had been too young, the last time. No one younger than ten was allowed in. 

A broad-shouldered man sets the sword he was polishing aside to stare at them through a fringe of black hair. His clothes are stained at the edges with soot. Towards the back of the shop, a woman breathes fire down the length of steel, alternating between hammering it into shape and heating it. A sizable collection of swords hang from the walls. 

“Shisui!” He bellows, and glances over his shoulder. “And that would be - Sasuke!”

Sasuke braces himself. Everyone has been strange since he got back, and he’s not sure how much more of it he can handle. Everyone knows, so they don’t ask, but he can feel them _watching_ him. 

“It’s been a long time, kid. Last time I saw you, you were this tall.” He holds a hand above the ground, exaggeratedly close to the floor. He bites back a vicious _I was not._

“What brings you here?”

“Sasuke needs a sword.”

“A sword?” He squints at him. “You looking for a specific type? We might have to compromise, since you’re shorter than most people we sell to.” He lumbers to his feet, his bad leg lagging behind. “You’re gonna want something a little longer than you’d normally use for someone your height if you want to grow into it. Do you have anything in mind?”

“Anything compatible with my size.”

He gives him an appraising look. “You’ll want something light. Tell you what, give me a week and I’ll have something better for you. Think of it as a late birthday present.”

Shisui draws him back by the shoulders. “Thanks, Isao. See you later!” And drags him back out the door.

Naruto can’t find Iruka anywhere.

He checked the academy - even though there isn’t school today, sometimes he can be found grading papers or cleaning the classrooms or helping the other teachers - and then he checked the repurposed warehouse where development for the orphanage is going on, and he isn’t there either. The old orphanage is small enough that most kids, once they’re big enough to mix more than one grammatical tense they get booted out to the nearest overpopulated two-room apartment. But little kids are terrible with money management and definitely shouldn’t be in charge of a house, he can attest, so Iruka is building a new place.

The clans are supposed to take in orphaned children, but the civilian kids and the ones the fall outside the clan usually have to fend for themselves.

Library it is, then. He might be reading to the kids again.

He peers down long aisles, towering stacks of books glaring down at him as he goes. Eventually, he does find him, with another donation box, collecting the damaged books the library gets rid of to make room for the new ones. He’s talking to a woman with bright red hair, pulled back into an elaborate braid. 

He slows as he nears.

“-no, the seal is usually decided by the main character, and then usually you have a bunch of surrounding ones that complement the main one, unless you have an equal division of power-”

“Oh, Naruto!” Iruka blinks, turning towards him. “Back again?”

“Yeah, I-” He glances at the woman, “I kinda need to talk to you-?”

“Naruto?” She tilts her head slightly. “You’re-”

And stops there. He squints at her. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” She shakes her head, holding her hands up. “Sorry, that was rude. I’m Eiko, nice to meet you.”

“Uh, you too.” He’s never met someone with hair that red. 

“She’s in town for the festivals.”

“Where are you from?” 

“I’m technically a Fire Country citizen, but I’m actually from Uzushio. Little island nation off the East coast. Got destroyed a decade back.”

Uzushio. He’s heard the name before - when he was reading about the mask making, right. “Don’t you guys do mask making?”

“Yeah, that was a really fun tradition.” She grins toothily. “My Dad was an archeologist and a professor at the college in Taihua, he got my Mom and I out before everything went under, and he loved making the masks. They’re said to scare off evil spirits.”

And they were traditionally shaped like a fox head.

“A lot of Uzushio kids ended up in Fire Country after the village was destroyed.”

“It was destroyed?”

“Yeah. We made the seals that contained the tailed beasts, and the other countries were worried we’d amass too much power, so… there were quite a few attacks, but what really did it in was when the attacks were. It was right before hurricane season - usually you’d have fleets and things stored up above flood level but most of it got destroyed, and the storms were especially bad that year. The river that runs through the city flooded and destroyed everything.”

Naruto frowns and rocks back on his heels. “Why don’t we learn about Uzushio?”

“Your specific curriculum didn’t include it.” Iruka says, sounding uneasy.

“You should… look it up.” Eiko says carefully, glancing at Iruka out of the corner of her eye. “The clans, maybe.”

“What’s so important about the clans?”

“Oh, nothing.” She looks at the clock and blanches. “I was supposed to meet my husband for lunch ten minutes ago. I gotta run. See you later!”

He waves before remembering the issue.

“Iruka-sensei! I have something to tell you! Something really important!”

He raises an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“I woke up with this weird… _thing_ on my hand! And I was looking through those Otsutsuki myths and it says it’s supposed to ‘seal the darkness’ or something and there’s the Jubi and it’s gonna destroy the world-!”

“Woah, Naruto, slow down.” He holds his hands up, and then peers at the mark on his hand. “I think you might be getting a little carried away with the ‘end of the world’ thing, but… someone should probably look at that. It could be a kekkei genkai.”

“What? No- I told you what it is!”

“C’mon, let’s go get that checked out.”

_“Iruka-sensei!”_

Ino rocks back on her heels as Mayumi walks her through the finer points of healing brain injuries.

By any other standards, they’d be moving quickly, but she’s aiming to be a field medic, not a med-nin, and those two things have very different qualifications. A field medic’s primary objective is to heal life threatening wounds. Most of the nuance is meant to be carried out at a hospital by a specialist.

Head wounds are probably the hardest thing in her entire arsenal, which isn’t even that decorated yet. They’re only covering the basics this month, because she still has her training for the Chunin exams. 

Injuries of the brain are always tricky. There was nothing to coax back to wellness. It wasn’t the same as a broken bone or a snapped tendon. Everything was small, and you had to be careful. It required delicacy. Everything was connected with everything else, so the slightest imbalance could cause a cascade somewhere else. 

She watches her mend capillaries and tissue, and then she moves onto chakra. Promoting the movement of chakra usually made the healing process easier, but with such a vulnerable organ supplanting your own shouldn’t even be attempted unless you shared a compatible chakra nature. Healing was a careful balance of dancing chakra - if the scale slipped too far in either direction either person could be killed.

Healing is dangerous, and has been dangerous for a long time. Tap into too much of your own chakra and you risk harm to yourself, push too far and you might end up killing the patient. Tsunade is famous for revolutionizing healing. She made it safer, and easier, making it possible to transfer chakra safely to another person without the risk of rejection. 

“Alright, kid.” She follows Mayumi out of the room, as she steps out of blood-splattered scrubs. The ER is always quite the experience. “You can go home.”

“Thanks!” She chirps, throwing her own scrubs in the nearest laundry bin. “Good luck with the night shift!”

Inoichi sighs, looking over the stack of paperwork on his desk. Papers to look over, psych evals to sign off on, procedures to authorize - he had been hoping to partake in the festivities with his kids, but it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen. In just two days their festival would be over and he hasn’t gotten to enjoy most of it. 

He stares down at the profile on his desk - Agent Hatake, approved for combat and temporarily restored as an ANBU agent. It’s unfortunate. Time as an agent has a distinct and troubling correlation with his spiralling mental health - that said, Kakashi isn’t likely to turn on his team in the heat of the battle. He isn’t a danger to anyone but himself, and as far as upper management is concerned, that’s good enough. He’s wanted Kakashi out since he was first promoted - fourteen is much too young for the work they do, especially for a fourteen year old displaying obvious symptoms of PTSD.

Part of him is convinced that nothing he would have said would have mattered anyway - any personal or professional issue he could have taken would have been swept under the rug in the interest of having another Sharingan user in ANBU. It isn’t a coincidence that Itachi and Shisui are the only Uchiha in ANBU. Kakashi was doomed from the beginning. 

He sees what they’re doing, though. Sasuke is prime material to bend into a hyper-loyal Shinobi, the likes of Itachi, before he learned to doubt. In fact, he would seem like the obvious example of ROOT’s meddling with the mind. If they can seal the tongue, Inoichi wouldn’t put it past Danzo to find a way to shape someone’s mind, either. Sasuke is only a Genin right now, but that’s only until everything settles. He can almost taste the _pending_ tacked onto the end of that title.

Fighting the Akatsuki qualifies him for ANBU. If they can shape him - they won’t hesitate to weaponize him. This is Kakashi, and Itachi, all over again. 

He’s talked with enough people to realize that no one walks away from ANBU. 

He fiddles with his pen. He could easily request a waiting time of three days to submit his diagnosis, he could schedule another meeting, he could claim Kakashi shouldn’t return to the field on the basis of instability. All of these things would do little but delay the inevitable, and still, he might just get brushed aside anyway. Now that they have a way to track the Akatsuki - yet to be tested, but Sasuke was adamant that his tracking was because of his hawks - and detailed descriptions of many - he fears that they’re more likely than not to authorize both of them.

At the other end of the office, Ibiki drums his fingers on the desk.

“That Uchiha kid…” He says. “Something’s off about him.”

Inoichi would know. He took a walk around his head, and he doesn't want to spend any more time thinking about the void of black nothingness that he found.

“Artificial memory wipes will do that to you.” He mutters. “The Hokage wants me to mobilize Kakashi again.”

“Careful. If they hear you call him that they might just take you off his case for emotional bias.”

“Please.” He scoffs. “As if calling him by his preferred name is emotional bias.”

Ibiki continues. “How did he end up in that forest? Why would any eleven year old kid decide to fight the Akatsuki, _especially_ after losing his memories. Why wouldn't he come back, if he knew about his clan? And the way he acts... he knows something.”

“Is it relevant?” On what grounds can he prevent Kakashi from going back into service? He’d gotten _better_ after getting a Genin team, no matter how vehemently he’d denied ever wanting one. “Even if he isn’t loyal to the village, we have a common enemy in the Akatsuki - you don’t get half your rib cage smashed for a cause you’re not dedicated to.”

Ibiki sighs. “I’m getting too old for this.”

“Oh, come on, what else would you do? You, in retirement? You’d get bored within the first five minutes.”

Didn’t mean this kind of work wasn’t soul-sucking.

“Are you sending Hatake in or not?”

“Can’t you just order me to?”

“I could. You’re the one with the degree, though. Decision’s up to you. It’s only the one assignment, isn’t it? Then he can go back to his happy family life.”

He snorts. Based on what Ino tells him, he’s not sure ‘family’ would be the word he would use to describe it… but, then again, it didn’t mean it wasn’t. “He might not come back at all.”

“Doubting his skills?”

“We don’t know enough about the enemy.” He reasons. “We don’t know that Sasuke’s word can be trusted, even if he said it sincerely, which he did.” The last thing he needs to do is send another squad marching to the gallows. “Ibiki, buy me two more days. Maybe I can scrape something together.”

Ibiki’s eyebrows raise, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Going soft in your old age?”

Inoichi slaps the files in his hands. “Like you’re one to talk. I’m clocking out for today. Night.”

“No - hang that literally anywhere else.”

Sasuke glares and balances the lantern in one hand as he jumps off the ladder.

“It’s too close to the gutter - if it rains it’ll get washed away.”

Scowling, he moves his lantern to a safer spot. Apparently, it’s the children’s ‘duty’ to hang the lanterns, and he’d apparently missed out on this sacred ritual and given that he isn’t yet considered a Shinobi and is eleven, he falls within the acceptable age range. Even though there’s more than enough lanterns, and this is a waste of time, and utterly demeaning.

Shisui hands him another lantern. 

“We don’t need more.”

“C’mon,” Shisui rolls his eyes. “This is the last one. Just go with it.”

He should set the lantern on fire. He’s going to do it.

They’re interrupted before his arson plan can come to fruition.

Temari leans her weight on one leg, crossing her arms. “You look like you’re having fun.”

“Fuck off.” He throws the lantern at Shisui, who grins. 

“I didn’t know you had friends.”

Sasuke very pointedly does not activate Chidori, no matter how tempting the idea is. 

“Shisui.” She greets. “Sasuke promised he’d train with me.”

“How nice of him.” He squints at them. “Unusually nice.”

“I must have caught him at a good time.” She says blandly. “If you’re ready to go…?”

“Hn.” He turns to Shisui, and stares very deliberately at the lantern until he makes the connection. “Oh! Don’t worry about it. Run along, children. Don’t kill anyone.”

“No promises.”

Temari snorts and turns towards the forest.

“So,” She starts, deflecting a kunai with her fan. “Think we’ve thrown them off our trail?”

“I can’t sense anyone.” He replies. “Adjust your stance.”

It's unfortunate that he doesn't have Aya with him. As soon as they'd figured out she was how he was tracking the Akatsuki, they'd been quick to hone in on her abilities. She's being kept in the Hokage Residence, and he hasn't seen her n days now.

She does, and swipes down with her fan, creating a blade of wind which she flicks towards him. He ducks out of the way, and turns to examine it, before closing the distance between them.

“You’re weakest in taijutsu. You should keep the enemy far away, and manipulate the battlefield instead. Try using the trees.”

The next time he advances, she bisects the trees with blades of wind. He maneuvers out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed. “Better.” And then. “You should consider combining that with other elements, like sand.”

Her fingers go white around her fan. “No.”

Sasuke watches her for a second. Right, Gaara is still…. right. “...okay.”

He leans back against a tree. “I know about the invasion.”

“Of course you do.” She sits down. “How much?”

“Most of it. What are they after?”

“War. I’m not sure what Oto gets out of it, but Suna wants war with Konoha.”

To free their economy from Konoha, right. “It’s not until the Chunin exams begin, right?”

“They need to at least make it seem like Gaara’s transformation is unintentional. Oto Shinobi are the only ones actually attacking - we’re supposed to fall back unless they’re overwhelmed. Plausible deniability. Suna wants Konoha to be the one to declare war.”

“Do you know how many there are?”

“Too many.”

Not promising. But if it’s anything like last time, it shouldn’t be too bad. Nothing like Pein’s attack. 

Maybe he could try to stop it, but he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to get close enough to any of them to do it. 

He sighs. 

“So what do we do about it?” She asks. “I’ll be intercepted before I can tell anyone that matters. And who else would believe me? Suna and Konoha have been at peace for years. On this end of things, everything looks fine. None of you get the luxury of seeing all the hatred festering in the city.”

He twirls a blade of grass between his fingers. None of this is improving his view of Konoha as a shit-hole. For once they should have to answer for their crimes (for his clan, for the Land of Waves, for Orochimaru, for Amegakure, for Pein, for Madara). It doesn’t escape him that it took Pein _levelling the village_ for them to even consider what they’d done, and even that hadn't been enough to stop the exploitation. As far as he’s concerned, there’s nothing about it worth saving.

There are _people,_ though. Speaking with the Kages had made that clear. He doesn’t want his family to die, or Team 7, or the oblivious civilians, or even Temari. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Don’t get yourself killed.”

He scoffs. As if someone like Orochimaru could kill him.

“They’ll get suspicious if I’m gone too long.” Temari stands, and brushes off her skirt. “Thanks for your help.”

Sakura bangs loudly on Kakashi’s door. And it’s easily distinguishable as Kakashi’s door because it’s positively covered in traps and seals. “Kakashi-sensei! I know you’re in there! Mrs. Watanabi says you’re home!”

She raises her hand to knock again and the door swings open, revealing her very dishevelled teacher.

“Sakura? To what do I owe the pleasure-?”

“Yamato-sensei says you’re in ANBU again!” She plants her hands on her hips. “Why’d I have to hear it from him? Is this why you dumped Naruto and Ino on that Jonin?”

He sighs. “Well, nothing is finalized-”

She glares. He steps aside. “We probably shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway.”

“Well, good.” Her expression melts into a smile, and she brandishes the grocery bag at her side. “I brought food.”

“I tried to get Ino to come too but she’s at the hospital.” She stabs her food with a chopstick with a little more force than necessary. “She’s _always_ at the hospital.”

Kakashi raises an eyebrow.

“And then I knocked on Naruto’s door but he was having… a crisis. And then he shouted something about seeing Iruka-sensei and ran off. I don’t know. So I made do.”

“Well, thank you,” Kakashi starts, “But you really didn’t have to-”

She points her chopsticks at him. “Why’re you back in ANBU? Are you not our teacher anymore?”

“I’m still your teacher.” He assures quickly. “The mission is temporary. I should be back just after the exams. Something… important cropped up that I have to deal with.”

“Classified.” She mumbles. “Do you even _like_ being in ANBU?”

“Yamato has been filling your head with slander.”

“Has _not._ Seriously, do you even want to be in it?”

“Well, it does give me structure,” He admits, and then reaches across the table to ruffle her hair. “But I think I like being a teacher better.”

“What do you know about structure… you’re always late.” She grumbles, but she’s warding off a smile. She turns towards the couch, where Pakkun is curled up on a quilt. “Y’know, your apartment kinda… sucks. No offense.”

He stares at Pakkun. “I’m being bullied. Do something.”

Pakkun snorts. Sakura grins. “You should paint your walls. I can see the cracks.”

“I’m not sure-”

“It’ll be fine! Pakkun, you agree with me, don’t you?”

Pakkun grunts. “See? He thinks it’s a good idea.”

“If he thought it was a good idea he could just tell me.”

“And he did.” She giggles and Kakashi sighs. “You should go and see the fireworks tonight.”

“We’ll see.” He says. Sakura rolls her eyes. “I’ve gotta go. See you later.”

Trees frame either side of the path as Temari hurries down the street towards her barracks. In the background, fireworks paint the sky psychedelic colors, bursting into clouds of fizzling, ephemeral light before plunging back to the earth in a husk of smoke like a falling star. The pop is loud enough that she can feel it in her jaw, and the subsequent cheers are nearly deafening, drowning out all other sounds.

The street is entirely empty. Most people are observing the fireworks near the waterfront or in the comfort of their homes, or hanging around the food vendors. There’s no one here.

Not quite. She’s being watched.

Ice skids down her spine and her heart pounds in her throat.

She’s not going to make it back in time.

She digs her heels into the ground and draws her fan. The first Oto Shinobi drops to the ground, teeth bared in a crooked smile.

“What do you want?” Her fingers tighten around the steel edge. “You aren’t supposed to interact with me.”

“Sorry, princess.” He grins. “We got some new orders. You compromised the plan of ours. Lord Orochimaru isn’t too happy.”

“Orochi-” She bites down on the word. Her heartbeat surges beneath her skin, hyper aware of the other four Shinobi not yet in the open. How did they overhear? She was so sure that they were far enough away-

"How did you-?"

The serpentine heads of smooth-scaled snakes crawl from the man’s sleeves, twisting around his wrist and fingers. Pale, unblinking green eyes stare back at her. "It's a little harder to detect summons, isn't it?"

She glances at the windows, many obscured by dark curtains. The fireworks crack again, and she knows that no one is coming to save her.

She steps back and swings the fan, summoning a blade of wind that he just narrowly avoids. Not quite enough, though. Blood stains the left side of his shirt. She whirls around just as the one to her left lands, swinging the steel edge of the fan up into vulnerable ribs, hearing the satisfying crack of bone beneath unrelenting metal.

She has to jump back, give herself space. She ducks beneath a kunai, lifting the fan to protect herself from their superior taijutsu. 

A sixth figure descends from the trees. 

She inhales sharply, turning a second too late-

And everything goes dark.

“This way.” The Oto Shinobi commands. There are five of them. Shukaku whispers in his ears, _there are five, run, run now, they will kill you,_ but he isn’t supposed to listen. Temari doesn’t like them but Father says he has to listen to them. _Kill them,_ Shukaku hisses, low and furious, hackles rising, and his hands shake. _Kill them before they kill you._

Shukaku only quiets after something has died. That is the price to pay for his silence.

“Faster.” He snarls, and reaches out. Sand surges, ready to crush delicate bones, ready to wrap around his wrist and shatter carpal bones, and then stretch upwards, and upwards-

He swallows the impulse. Father says he needs better control. He upsets Temari when he kills people, and then she has to lie to protect him. Shukaku is not so easily placated. His roars could shatter eardrums. 

“Where is Temari?”

“Waiting for you.” He doesn’t so much as pause as he says it, and Shukaku howls, thrashing against the bars of his prison, and the sands rise, and he can imagine snapping his neck. Temari doesn’t like them. Would she mind?

No, no, no. 

_There’s no way to differentiate,_ Temari always says, _what you’re feeling and what Shukaku is feeding you._

He scares her, Kankuro says so. He scares Kankuro, too. He scares everyone. 

_There’s no way to tell until after, and then it’s too late._

The sand cracks the stone at his feet. The man glances over his shoulder. “Hurry up. We’re wasting time. Your sister is waiting for us.”

The sky above is so dark that it seems like it could swallow the earth whole. Shukaku doesn’t think Temari is waiting for them at all - but he has to follow their orders, and he can’t kill them-

_Idiot,_ Shukaku hisses. He usually isn’t so articulate, but the bars of his cage seem to be thinning. _I’ll kill you all_ myself.

They stop abruptly. The man lunges again, and not even the sand is fast enough to stop him-

The seal is broken.

Sasuke sits upward in bed, his breath caught in his throat, an overwhelming weight on his chest, buzzing in the air. He recognizes it. He’s seen it twice before, and measured himself to its power both times. 

He reaches for his newly forged sword, darting to the window, and his heart stops. There, at the center of the city, head stretched back to reveal a maw of twisted fangs-

_Shukaku._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> -Dadkashi gets bullied by Sakura  
> -Tiny bit of chakra theory   
> -uzushio is an island territory with a dynamic equilibrium. Given that the village was built on a river I figured environmental reasons (flooding) could have contributed to its ultimate downfall, because I figured that what with Konoha's endorsement they would have been fairly well protected, so invasion on top of unusually destructive weather would be enough to destroy everything as badly as it was.  
> -Sasuke is Angry, as usual, and also terrible  
> -I took some liberties with Gaara's character because I feel like that kind of character development (he really did a complete 180) had to come from somewhere so while he's still very much insane I wanted to give that development some ground  
> -Is Temari okay? Who knows. Is Gaara? Physically? Probably not. Psychologically? Definitely not
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	15. Hesperos

The first thing he registers is the deafening sound. Screaming civilians flee toward whatever exit they can find, guided by panicked Chunin shouting directions into the hysteric crowd, their words swallowed by Shukaku’s roars in the distance.

From what he can see, the transformation isn’t complete. Shukaku’s jaw is unhinged as sand cycles up and attempts to repair the damage. It roars, ducking its head down and thrashing, its tail levelling an entire district of houses. The earth shakes beneath him. 

He has several options: leave the Uchiha clan to deal with the Ichibi and go after Orochimaru, or go to it directly and deal with Orochimaru later. 

He weighs the damage Shukaku can wreak and the benefits of killing Orochimaru-

In the long term, he needs to handle the Akatsuki first. 

Orochimaru it is.

He unsheathes the blade at his side. Out of habit he’d left the hitai-ate in his room, and has to duck past two Chunin attempting to stop him. 

He dives into the streets, leaping back as another building topples in a cascade of brick and wood and cement. He leaps over the pile, narrowly avoiding a tidal wave of bone-crushing sand that sweeps through the streets. Shukaku roars, the reverberation cuts up through his jaw into his teeth. The presence of a tailed beast is always suffocating. Malignant chakra hangs in the air like a cloud of poisonous sulfur, ready to choke whatever was unfortunate enough to come within range. 

His foot skids in a puddle of blood.

It runs in rivulets through the cracks in the road, spiderwebbing into foot-shaped craters. The first thing he suspects is Shukaku, but it wasn’t until after the initial awakening that it moved to this sector - they should’ve already evacuated everyone by the time it finally ventured over. Then he suspects the vulture-like Oto Shinobi perched on the high-rise rooftops, in the darkness their shapes are indistinguishable from the shadowed tile. 

The blood has a clear trail. 

He follows it to the end of the street, only to find a _pileup_ of bodies - notable Jonin, but none he personally recognizes - and-

_You’ve_ got _to be fucking kidding me._

Kakuzu. 

Sasuke is gone.

_Again._

Itachi doesn’t have time to panic. 

Mikoto and Fugaku are already in the living room, ready to jump into the fray. He admits, this would be easier if not for the snakes surrounding the compound. All of them exceed, in length, the size of an apartment building, as thick around as the oldest trees in the Forest of Death, sporting thick, overlapping scales that might as well be made of diamond, for all their attacks are doing.

“Sasuke’s gone.” He says, and his voice trembles. The window was open. No broken glass. No easy way for anyone to break in because of the snakes wrapped around the compound. He left on his own accord, and he can only hope that he didn’t become snake food in his attempt.

His mother’s grip tightens around his shoulder. “We’re going to force a way out.” 

She’s forgone her hitai-ate, but she has her sword at her side.

Outside, the world has dissolved into white noise. The sound of screaming as children are herded towards the meeting place underground - and even that isn’t guaranteed to keep them safe. 

A snake towers over the gate and terracotta walls, teeth bared as a forked tongue tastes the air. A set of spikes run down its spine, ending at a lashing tail curled around the east wall, falling over a green cascade of ivy. 

“Itachi.” Fugaku snaps. The red of his Mangekyo glows. Mikoto takes the opportunity to hand him his ANBU sword.

He follows after his parents towards the beasts.

Sakura watches the destruction with wide eyes as the Ichibi rains down destruction on the line of houses before her.

“Come _on!”_ Ino yells, grabbing her wrist and trying to pull her away. Sakura stays rooted to the spot, even as Shukaku unhinges its jaw to roar again - except this time it comes out like a strangled scream, layered several times over with a guttural howl. Its tail smashes into a pile of rubble and kicks up a cloud of dust. She blinks hard with watering eyes.

Ino pulls more insistently this time, hard enough to knock her off balance. 

There’s an eerie silence, save for the sounds the Ichibi makes. The cracking of stone and crumbling brick hitting the pavement. There’s someone wailing in the distance. 

She has to help. She has to do _something._

Her heart thuds in her ears. Her hands shake.

“What are you doing?” Ino yells. “We have to go!”

She swallows. 

Mokuton is made to capture the beasts - it’s designed to imprison them, made strong enough to bend the will of ancient deities. This is what she’s supposed to do. If she can’t do that - well, then she really is useless, isn’t she?

Even with all her training, she knows she doesn’t stand a chance against something like that, not when it weighs upon her lungs like stone. Not when breathing becomes a struggle in itself.

“Mokuton-” She stammers. Her mouth feels numb. “Mokuton is meant to capture the tailed beasts.”

Ino blinks wide, incredulous eyes. “You can’t seriously want to fight that thing!”

Of course she doesn’t want to-

She doesn’t even think she can. But she should at least try, shouldn’t she? Isn’t this why she’s been training all this time? If she can’t suppress the Ichibi, then what chance does she stand against the Kyuubi?

“I’m not watching you kill yourself trying to fight it.” She snaps, and yanks Sakura forward again, away from the towering beast as it fights itself, struggling for control where there is none. Another animalistic howl, something so deeply pained it strikes her. More human than beast.

“Where are the Chunin?” Ino hisses as they stalk through the street, trying desperately to avoid the now sparse Oto Shinobi perched overhead, patrolling. One of them leaps from his perch, only for Mokuton to smash him back into the ground, pinned beneath thick pillars of a wooden prison. “They should still be here.”

“Did they already get everyone out?”

Even against Zabuza she didn’t feel this small. 

They duck in the shadow of a building. The Ichibi’s fury is indiscriminate - its wrath is reserved for no one, whether Oto, Suna or Konoha. They come to a gap between buildings. Sakura peers around the corner. The Ichibi stands in the center of the clearing, tail lashing back and forth. Had there been anything left for it to destroy, it would have. 

Yellow eyes dilate and shrink. It glances down, and Sakura’s heart falls to her feet.

But it isn’t looking at them.

She spots a flash of blonde hair.

No. _No._ Even he’s not that stupid. He wouldn’t.

...would he?

“Ino.” She croaks. 

_“What?”_

“Look.” 

There stands Naruto, facing down the Ichibi. 

Ino inhales sharply. “That _idiot._ How did he even-?”

“We have to- we have to help him. He can’t fight that on his own-”

Ino is frozen, caught between her loyalty to her teammate and the chances that they’ll get out of this alive. 

“Ino, we’re not just _leaving him there.”_

“I know! I know, we’re not. We’re - we’re going in there. God, I’m facing down the _Ichibi_ for you idiots.” Her mouth quirks into a sardonic smile. “At least we’re going out together.”

Sakura tugs her sleeve. “If we get out of this alive, I’m going to _kill him.”_

The tailed beasts are bigger than he expected. Not entirely, because he’s heard the stories (the names hurled at him from high apartment balconies, white-knuckled fingers wrapped against a metal railing as a woman hissed monster and demon down at him as her white linens flapped around her head in the cold wind, and monsters and demons were always big and terrible, weren’t they?)

But seeing one is _emphatically_ different. 

Beneath the natural terror, he can’t help but stare up at the grotesque maw of fangs, and wonder _is that what they see me as?_

The Ichibi - and that’s what it has to be - snarls.

And he’s no better than this. The Kyuubi attacked the village twelve years ago and the village is still reaping the consequences. It makes sense that they hate him, it makes sense, it makes sense, but there’s a person trapped somewhere in there, a person like him, and-

And maybe he can help.

“Naruto… Uzumaki.” The Ichibi growls, but he can hear Gaara’s voice in there. Gaara is still there. He can still try. “I will…” The snarl dies out, and a clawed hand reaches down, as if to tear him apart, and stops. 

He isn’t sure why he’s doing this but he knows that it’s right, it’s like he’s done it before (the fringes of memory, like the dark frills of a funeral shawl moving in the wind, he just has to keep going, he's so close-)

Gaara heaves through labored breaths. “Have you come here… to challenge me?”

“No.” He says. “I’m here to talk.”

Kakuzu’s masks drip puddles of blood. Painted on faces stare back at him, rigid and unblinking and uncanny. There are Jonin behind him, some coming to investigate this and some diverting to help with the Ichibi. As far as he can tell most of the Oto and Suna Shinobi have been taken care of (nevermind that he doesn’t know what chaos Orochimaru or the Sound Four are wreaking right now), which leaves Shukaku as the only target left.

He wonders if the rest of the clan has made it past the snakes yet. If not, he’s disappointed.

A spark of lightning shudders down the blade, illuminating the alley.

It feels so good to do that again.

“You.” Kakuzu says disdainfully, the threads sprouting from stitched together body parts winding together methodically. Sasuke can only imagine an upturned nose. “I thought Hidan killed you.”

_Don’t you wish._

He lowers the tip of the blade. He’s going to have to get up close soon, even if he doesn’t want to. Amaterasu might leave him vulnerable against Orochimaru later, and in this state Susano is little more than a defensive measure. Footsteps echo behind him. Kakuzu raises unimpressed eyes. 

Kakashi.

There’s a couple of Jonin running towards Shukaku, but Kakashi is heading towards him.

“You-” Kakashi doesn’t give the situation a second thought because neither of them have time to question his identity. The Mangekyo pinwheels in his eyes and he feels Kakashi stiffen beside him. So much for using Chidori.

Maybe Amaterasu can work if he aims for the masks.

The fire mask advances on dark threads, opens its jaw with a horrifying creak and spits molten flames. As he jumps out of the way Kakashi summons a wall of earth. Two more masks wrap around behind them. The water mask might be a problem. 

He whirls around, following its movements with the Mangekyo, predicting its movements, obviously forming the seals of Katon. The water mask wrenches its jaw open and a torrent of water spins in a hurricane towards him. Kakashi shoves him out of the way, a burst of Chidori dispelling the worst of it. From under his arm, Sasuke exhales black fire.

Amaterasu is merciless as it devours the mask. Black unquenchable flames grow until the mask is covered. The threads supporting the mask snap off preemptively before the fire can be carried down their length. 

Blood rolls down his face. He might be over doing it. 

Kakashi glances down at him.

“He’s after Naruto.” Which means Naruto must be somewhere in the vicinity. Shukaku looms in his peripheral vision and he’s not naive enough to hope that that isn’t where Naruto is, because of _course_ that’s where he would be. “Get him quick or his masks will regenerate.”

Kakashi should be able to handle the rest of this by himself.

Sasuke takes Kakuzu’s momentary confusion to barrel forward, raising his sword with the intention of hacking apart the nearest mask, which hurls a blade of wind at him. He ducks beneath it, and lets the subsequent one clip his arm so he can deliver the blow. He hears the cracking of wood - he can’t be sure it’s complete, and if it isn’t, it’ll have time to regrow, but he’s just given Kakashi the clear advantage.

Threads lunge at his ankle, and he fries them with Chidori and hopes Kakashi won’t notice. 

He runs down the alley, slashing at the threads that shoot back to follow him. One of them wraps around his arm and pulls. Shuddering waves of fire roll down his shoulder. Chidori sparks again. With his free hand, he slashes through the threads, which pull and whine before tearing. 

His vision blurs as he blinks away blood. 

He summons Sukai, who immediately takes to the air. 

“Sukai, go get Aya!”

_“I’ll bring her back!”_

Time to get Orochimaru.

Itachi runs through the streets, splattered with snake guts and an acidic green substance that he can only hope isn’t corrosive. His parents are already heading towards the Ichibi to try and contain it. Yamato and Kakashi should already be there, if they haven’t been caught in any disputes. 

He can’t do too much to assist, considering he hasn’t yet awoken the Mangekyo and anything other than a fully evolved Sharingan possessed by someone with a sound mind and unwavering conviction will prove ineffective against something of that caliber.

Instead, he tries to find Sasuke.

He turns, avoiding the epicenter of the Ichibi’s destruction, and comes face to face with a blood smeared Kakashi. 

“Duck!” He yells. Itachi doesn’t have time to process that, he just moves as an arc of lightning shoots over his head.

It’s the same Akatsuki member he’d faced earlier, but - what was he doing here? How had he gotten here? 

The man sneers at him, and his masks retreat. “You’re a waste of time.”

He turns, and Itachi tenses, prepared to pursue, but Kakashi is actively bleeding. 

“Are you alright?”

“Fine. Your nightmare of a brother was with me - he escaped earlier, ran that way. Said he was after Naruto.”

Right. The Jinchuuriki. And based on what they’d done to the last one, they didn’t want anything good. So he could go after Sasuke, or he could protect Naruto. 

Kakashi must see his internal conflict. “Your parents are already there. So is Yamato, and Shikaku, and the rest of my team. He’s not getting in there.”

“Your team is fighting Shukaku?”

“I never claimed that they were smart.” He shakes his head. “But I don’t think fighting’s what they’re doing, based on the noise. Unless…”

Unless they were already dead.

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Itachi says. 

Kakashi stares up at Shukaku’s form, partly bound by thick pillars of wood. “I hope you’re right.”

As he leaps to the roof of the Hokage Residence, he’s met with a slew of dead bodies, both from ANBU and Oto. Aya flies towards him, Sukai on her tail.

_“Sasuke! Are you okay?”_

“Fine. Where’s Orochimaru?”

_“That way!”_

None of this would've happened if he'd just stopped them from taking Aya. 

He gets to the edge of the roof, and… tiles are missing, falling to the ground, lying on the ground in pieces. He stays low and tense, and-

The Hokage is already dead.

He lays on the ground, completely still. Aya makes a small, trilling noise low at the back of her throat. _“Did Orochimaru…?”_

“Yes.” He grips his sword harder. He leaps off the edge of the roof to another. “Which direction?”

“North, he’s-”

He watches a figure in the distance land on the empty street, a cloaked figure behind him. He pressed his hand to the ground - too pale, it has to be Orochimaru - before both of them disappear into what has to be ROOT’s tunnels. Before the opening can close off, he jumps after them.

The cloaked figure - Kabuto - whirls around, deflecting Sasuke’s sword with his own while Orochimaru makes his escape. Three ROOT agents leap from the lower suspended walkways, but none of them interfere with the fight. Kabuto makes the hand signs for Suiton, and aims it at the kid behind him. 

The kid is fast, but it won’t be enough to escape the wire-sharp wings of the dragon snapping open and knocking him off the platform. He pulls out his wire, tackling him to the side and off the platform. The wire pulls taut and cuts his palm open as he swings to the other side. The water dragon knocks the other two off the platform. The woman catches the edge but the man plunges into the darkness a thousand feet down. 

His arm trembles with the pain of keeping the kid from falling.

He swings them back up to the platform, and the boy pulls him back up before going back to help the woman. It only takes him a second to make the connection - that’s _Sai._

“Thank you for saving me.” He says, perfectly blank. 

“Where are they going? Can I intercept them?”

He blinks, before pointing. “That way. Two rights.”

He starts running.

The hallway he’s following cuts into the main one just in time for him to catch up. Chidori flares down the length of his sword. The sound of chirping birds fills the corridor. Orochimaru turns, and he can see the necrosis from beneath his sleeves. Kabuto makes a strangled sound behind him as he drives the sword through his chest. 

Kabuto stares at him with wide eyes, and as Sasuke rips his sword free, Kabuto jumps back and summons a giant snake, much too large for the confines of the hallway, and disappears. 

The snake hisses and snarls, adjusting to the too-low ceiling, before bearing long fangs and striking.

He jumps back, sweeping his sword up, but it isn’t fast enough. With the state of his arm, he definitely isn’t in any shape to be fighting this thing, too.

He retreats back the way he came.

“What are they gonna do to him?” Naruto’s voice wobbles. He sounds congested. Ino pulls him firmly away from where they have Gaara kept - not the Ichibi, anymore. He’s under a genjutsu cast by Fugaku, and trapped securely beneath Mokuton. 

“I don’t know.” She admits uneasily. She doesn’t want to lie to him, but based on what she just heard, he probably doesn’t want to know what she thinks is going to happen. 

Sakura pulls them down into the grass. Kakashi is a little ways away, talking to the Fugaku. Her head rolls onto Ino’s shoulder and Naruto is nearly crushing her hand.

“He’ll be okay.” Sakura says. 

Kakashi walks over, hands in his pockets, perfectly relaxed despite the amount of blood on him.

“Kakashi-sensei!” Ino yelps. “You’re-”

“I’m?”

She shakes her head. “An idiot. Sit down.”

The process of healing is dependent on the careful balance of yin and yang chakra. She guides it through reparation, and when she’s done, he’s mostly okay. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” He plants a hand on her head, and she scrunches her nose up.

“‘Course I did. I’m supposed to be a medic.”

No sooner than she says that does a med-nin tear through the clearing, raising terrified eyes to a restrained, unconscious Gaara. He shifts uncertainly. “Ino, your presence is requested.”

“What?”

“Mayumi said-”

She throws back her head to groan. “Okay, okay.”

“You’re going?”

“I’ve gotta. There are people to help.” She waves as she goes.

Yugito glances down at the brackish water swimming between tufts of tall sawgrass, carried in by an estuary not far from the coast of Amado. Cypress and mango trees pave the brief isolated islands of land separated by channels of slow moving muddy water. Wading birds wait perched for their next meal to journey by. 

And no sign of anyone.

On her outstretched arm, Chiha shudders. _“Do we have to go in here?”_

“Matatabi. There’s no one here.”

She hums, a deep, rumbling sound. “It has been many years since I have been here last. The clan may well have died off.”

Yugito sighs. She’s too far away from Kumo for them to be happy with her, but if the world’s going to end - and she’s inclined to believe that’s what the Akatsuki are aiming for - then she’s not going to spend her last days miserable on Kumo’s mountainsides. 

The crude carvings on the temple walls had been lacking in context, but surprisingly straightforward. The ringed eye on the moon, for one thing. 

The infinite tsukuyomi. Matatabi called it a myth, an old tale carried down by the Otsutsuki clan for generations. It seemed somewhat outlandish, but Sasuke possessed the eye of the heavens, something else she had thought was simple myth. 

“How does the technique work?” She asks to distract herself. The last thing she wants to do is fall in the water that has to be teeming with parasites. From the murky water, two beady eyes stare up at her. “It seems unfeasible.” 

In her mind’s eye, Matatabi’s tails flick. She bares her teeth in a smile. “No such technique is impossible. You’re aware my siblings and I used to be one, yes? Some fragments of memory remain. I can recall pieces of the old world. The divide between this world and the next was much more thin. Few things were impossible.” 

“Yugito. The Sage is exalted as a deity, a divine figure. Tell me, when man has the power to bend earth and water to their will, and summon lightning and fire to their palm, command shadow and bind the will of others - what separates man from god?”

Yugito frowns. “Is there a point to this conversation?”

She grins. “There is a point to every conversation. Tell me, what defines man and god when man can artificially extend their lives? Do they ascend to godhood?”

She frowns. She’s heard of Uzushio’s epithet of longevity, of the supposed ability of Takigakure to extend one’s own life. “Get to the point, Matatabi.”

“Have patience, Yugito.” She flexes her claws. “So you’ve come to the conclusion that very rarely is there a difference. What does this tell you about the Sage?”

“He’s… human.”

“Indeed. I’m uncertain of how much now, but the human parts that have perished have been replaced. Even still, nothing human is meant to last forever..”

She stops. Chiha stops. _“Are you saying he’s still alive?”_

“Do not sound so surprised.” Yugito can almost hear the delighted laughter in her voice. “As alive as someone like him can be, I’m sure. He is not quite alive or dead. He exists as something else entirely. But human, for the time being. Greatly powerful. Imbued with pieces of the Jubi. A Jinchuuriki’s soul is tied to what it contains. The Sage was no different. More importantly, though. He is called the sage for a reason.”

“Is it possible to find him?”

“Who’s to say? If he wished to be found, he would be.”

Yugito stares down at the water through the long branches of trees. “There aren’t any temples here.”

“Perhaps Chomei’s temple no longer stands.”

_“Does that mean we can leave?”_ Chiha shuffles uncomfortably. _“I should’ve been back a while ago.”_

“Stop.” Matatabi commands, tails lashing. “Ahead.”

Through the swampy water, choked with moss and sawgrass and patches of swamp orchids, a figure moves. Small. But-

That’s a _Jinchuuriki._

A young girl, rather, stares up with big amber eyes while she waves.

“Matatabi?”

“Chomei’s Jinchuuriki.” She breathes. 

The girl - Fu - waves brightly. She’s covered in scratches. Her hair looks like birds tried to make a nest out of it, but she’s smiling, unperturbed. Shouldn’t she be in Takigakure? As far as Yugito is aware, they keep their Jinchuuriki under tight surveillance at all time, so how did she get out here?

“Hi!” She calls. “Chomei says you’re a Jinchuuriki too!”

“Chomei!” Matatabi exclaims. 

Yugito narrows her eyes. “Are you the cause of this?”

“I’ve done no such thing.” Matatabi replies. “Now go greet them. It’s terribly rude of you to keep my brother waiting.”

“Unbelievable.” Yugito breathes, and descends from the tree.

The prisons in Otogakure are never quiet. None of them are.

Somewhere, down one dark hallway, is development of the curse mark. The more stable strains of it, that is, the ones that have yielded promising results, chosen carefully from the wider net cast over the various prisons dotted across the countryside. 

Karin has no love for its dim lighting and cool, damp air, and even less for the inmates she’s currently sharing the space with. Some of them have status - the vessels chosen by Orochimaru are at the top of the hierarchy. They aggregate in groups at the center of the room, commanding all eyes, while the rest of them are shunted to the side. They wear the purple ropes around their waists like a badge of honor - a staple of Otogakure. A mark of character, of prestige in Oto culture.

It’s hard to pin down much of _anything_ in a place with so many clans. Any one branch of government is practically nonexistent - most land is ruled in factions by the strongest party there. But Orochimaru owns the cities, and that’s where the money is - that’s where the fighting rings are. While his control isn’t explicit, it’s very much real, more so in fear tactics and coercion and bribes than anything else. After the annihilation of the Fuma clan everyone’s too scared to do anything about him, and he’s got so many connections to so many clan heads a takeover probably wouldn’t be feasible unless something big happened. 

Speaking of, he got a new one. Shy kid, maybe thirteen or fourteen. _Definitely_ Fuma clan. There’s so few of them left it’s a miracle that there were any of them still around to end up in the rings. But he got scouted. And now he’s at their table.

She bats her lashes at him. Status is everything here. Who you’re connected to matters. She’s under Orochimaru’s direct control, so no one dares touch her, but it always helps to make connections where you can find them.

She crosses one leg over the other and surveys the competition. She’s been handpicked to control the prisons for her incredible ability to detect chakra. They should be back anytime, now.

The Fuma kid keeps glancing over his shoulder at her. She smiles prettily, twirling her hair around one finger until his eyes dart back to the table.

The heavy door slams open. 

Kabuto, leading his troop of battered Shinobi. The attack wasn’t successful, then, unless Orochimaru decided to stick around and proclaim his new dictatorship. 

The room goes silent, and when she catches a glimpse at Kabuto’s face, she reels back.

A bone-deep fury, the kind that burns everything up inside you until you’re hollow. The kind of rage that leaves you shaking and wordless. His chakra is flickering with fury, colored by something like grief, powerful and disorientating enough that it makes her head spin. 

He stalks past the masses. As they leer and demand an explanation, he pauses in such a way that makes the room plunge into uneasy silence again. 

“The attack didn’t achieve what it was meant to.” His voice is almost smooth. She can still see the way his chakra is flickering, though, like an open flame. “That’s all you need to know.”

They’re gone within the minute, and something sinks in her stomach. The rest of these idiots might not realize it, but-

_Orochimaru is dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Sasuke saw the snakes at the beginning, he just decided that that was none of his business. 
> 
> Sasuke, this entire chapter: That's not my problem
> 
> -Sasuke stop disappearing on your family you're gonna give Itachi an aneurysm  
> -Team 7, collectively, watching someone run towards shukaku: who's that idiot  
> -Team 7, realizing it's Naruto: Oh god it's our idiot  
> -Naruto you don't run towards the big murder monster  
> -Kakuzu got away. He wasn't getting paid enough to fight Kakashi and Itachi  
> -Whoops the hokage is dead  
> -team 7 literally tried to fight a demon and Kakashi is still the one being called an idiot  
> -As for what's gonna happen to Gaara, I feel like they wouldn't let him off the hook so easy because turning into a giant murder monster and flattening a bunch of buildings in the middle of their village is. Not great.   
> -Orochimaru is dead! Finally. I feel like with Oto his death should've had more impact. He basically had all of Oto under his thumb, and we only see a fraction of what happened afterward. Kabuto is trying to keep it quiet because otherwise there could be revolt, and he's about to go full on identity crisis. Kabuto is kind of an interesting, if somewhat forgettable, character because he had some real devotion to Orochimaru, regardless of why that was. Without him, he was entirely undefined and he couldn't handle that so he was like well I guess I'm just gonna *become* Orochimaru then.
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading


	16. Genesis

Sasuke is in the stupid hospital _again._

Just being treated for simple cuts and scrapes (and a slightly broken arm), this time. His family had been kicked out of the room sometime earlier while TI questioned him for the second time this month, and neither Ibiki nor Inoichi seemed pleased with his answers. He said that he’d briefly encountered Kakuzu and escaped to find Orochimaru. 

Then comes the matter of Chidori - because he’d had to be certain that it would kill him in a way that mattered - and neither were pacified by his explanation for that. _I mixed principles of Raiton with the jutsu I saw Kakashi perform,_ he lies. He knows Itachi and Kakashi are friends, so there’s some level of plausible deniability there, but it’s not the most easily acceptable explanation. It doesn’t matter anyway, though. They can’t prove otherwise.

He hadn't told them what he knew of ROOT - after all, how would he know? He only mentioned that he had followed Orochimaru down into the strange subterranean tunnels that he was ultimately killed in. 

(And doesn’t _that_ feel good. Cathartic, even).

Moving on, the prospect of anyone knowing a _Genin,_ moreover, the recently discovered wayward Uchiha heir, killed a _Sanin_ would destroy their cover. That’s why responsibility has now been shifted to Kakashi. The evidence of Chidori will be automatically associated with Kakashi, and he’ll escape public notice. That doesn’t mean they’ll be publicizing who exactly killed Orochimaru, but in case it should come up, they have a front. Some details might not add up - Kakashi isn’t known for his sword wielding, but ANBU are known to be versatile with their weapons, and the size of the weapon he should’ve been equipped with probably won’t match up with the one on the body, but autopsy details can easily be changed.

Now he just awaits his diagnosis.

At least his chakra isn’t sealed this time. 

This would go a lot quicker if the med-nin hovering outside the door would just grow a spine already and come in. 

They stand there for what feels like hours, and Sasuke wonders if this is finally it, and then they immediately turn around and run down the hallway with their tail between their legs. 

Idiot.

So he waits longer, until he feels someone somewhat familiar.

Ino opens the door and steps inside, pushing a cart in front of her. 

“You.” She tells him primly. “Are very irritating.”

Sasuke scowls and bites back a remark about the quality of med-nin they employ.

“You scare all the best healers away,” She continues, parking the cart at his bedside. “So now I have to deal with you. Because I’m apparently the only person in this ward that you haven’t got scared to death. Every time someone tries to bring you up in the lobby one of the nurses brings up _'demon hawks'_ in the most horrified voice I’ve ever heard. Care to enlighten me?”

“Not really.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to leave it up to the horrors of my imagination.”

She shoves his sleeve up to his shoulder to deal with the break that had already been set. His torn-up side had been the primary thing they’d focused on when initially treating him. The break wasn’t going to hurt him just sitting there. He stares impassively down at his lap until the green glow fades away. 

“How do you keep ending up in here, anyway?”

“It’s not like I _want_ to be.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” She shuffles back. “Okay, time for regular diagnostics.”

She shines a light in his eyes, checks his ears, looks for a concussion despite his repeated assurance that he hadn't hit his head. 

“Okay. You look good to go, Uchiha. Try not to end up in here again, ‘kay? Or Mayumi might just make me your personal medic. You’re gonna give the rest of them heart attacks.”

He huffs, and slides out of bed. The cold of the floor leeches away any residual grogginess. 

Outside, his family and Shisui are waiting. Mikoto lunges forward to hug him now that he’s not wounded and then proceeds to yell at him for a solid half an hour. Shisui snickers at his side and he resigns himself to his fate.

They’re in the process of checking out, but Shisui is striking up conversation with a med-nin who apparently used to be on the same ANBU squad as him. Sasuke doesn’t know why _that_ one couldn’t treat him.

Mikoto and Fugaku are sitting on the lobby couch, their day already derailed. Shisui has the unfortunate habit of making friends with everyone, which often means he gets stopped in the streets, caught up in hour long conversations that usually leave him late to whatever commitment he was expected at, and then he never gets in trouble for it. Shisui is charismatic like that.

He sits shoulder to shoulder next to Itachi.

“Shisui told me Temari is here, room 24B.”

He startles. “What?”

Itachi shrugs. “I wasn’t privy to the details.” And then. “Go see your friend. Shisui’ll still be here when you get back.”

Sasuke doesn’t bother to correct him on that statement. He glances towards their parents instead.

“It’s okay. Mom will just be excited that you made friends with someone your own age.”

“We’re not friends.” He scowls, and stands up. Room 24B, huh? He wants to know what happened differently this time around, and Temari might know, so he might as well ask.

The ANBU outside Temari’s room seem adamant on keeping any visitors out. Sasuke is adamant that he’s going to Chidori someone if they don’t let him in soon. 

Temari shuffles to the door and yanks it open. She looks a little worse for wear, hair unkempt and dark circles under her eyes. There’s some bruising at her temples, no doubt worse hidden beneath her hospital gown. 

“I know him.” She sighs, and ushers him in. 

There’s a vase of flowers perched at the nightstand next to her bed. 

“Your hospitals are ridiculous.” She tells him. He couldn’t agree more. “Have the med-nin are too afraid of the ANBU to come into my room. It’s inane. Not to mention the-” She grapples for words. “The _titles,_ it’s-”

He frowns, and she sighs, ready to elaborate.

“For lack of a better term, I’ve been assigned the role of Kazekage.”

Well, that’s certainly unexpected. 

“I don’t meet all the requirements quite yet,” She explains, “But there are some prerequisites that only I qualify for. I’m too young right now. It was supposed to be Kankuro, but it seems he’s allergic to responsibility - he abdicated as soon as the council saddled him with the title. Our election process works differently than yours. Sure, strength is important, but that can be acquired at any point. Anyone in the running has to have trained personally under the Kazekage, so while it isn’t a rule, it is a social precedent for their children to take on that title. The process is more complicated when more than one child meets the requirements, but that decision is left up to the council, and it’s-” She shakes her head vehemently. “A mess.”

If there’s one good thing about growing up without a clan, it was avoiding the politics that came with.

“It obviously can’t be Gaara, because, well-” She gestures out the window.

He has no doubt that Konoha would pitch a fit if they tried to hand the position to Gaara. The Kage title came with more strings than the average citizen realized - it wasn’t just a mark of strength. No, it was hours of meetings with diplomats, public announcements, infrastructure redesign, clan politics, when it got bad enough. War meetings. It was dealing with the organizations like ROOT. It was leading an entire nation of people.

_“Me.”_ She scowls. “It was always going to have to be me, they’d never let Gaara be Kazekage, not…” She purses her lips. “And Kankuro would refuse the position just to spite dear old dad. I just thought I’d have longer to prepare. We leave in a couple of days.”

So they know about the Kazekage, too. She doesn’t seem particularly upset about that. 

“I’m going to have to completely restaff the council, and that’s going to take _years._ They all despise me.”

He snorts. “The Elders are like that.”

She arches a brow. “I’m sure they’re a joy to be around, then.”

He huffs. 

She sighs, leaning back against the stiff pillow propped at the end of her bed. “Thank you, for everything.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “You think I don’t know you killed Orochimaru?”

Sasuke stiffens.

“Relax - Kazekage to be, remember? I have… access to these things now. Informants, if you will. Besides, they say it was a lightning attack that did him in, and Kakashi was seen helping to subdue the Ichibi. As a sign of good will between nations, if you will, I won’t be sharing this particular secret. So, on behalf of the honor of my dead, horrible father, thank you.”

The edge of her smug smile eases the tension in his shoulders. “How did you end up here?”

“Ambushed by Oto because they heard us talking about the invasion.” She raises an eyebrow. “You?”

“Minor things. Broken arm.”

She hums. “Do you know where they’re keeping my brother?”

“Interrogation, probably.” It’s his turn to raise an eyebrow. “You planning on breaking him out?”

“Of course I’m not.” She scoffs. “It wouldn’t be any use - it’s not like they can really touch him, anyways.”

Sasuke leans back against his chair, and they devolve into a comfortable silence that lasts until the ANBU agent at the door cracks the door open and orders him out. 

They pause at the door.

“Good luck.” Temari says, and he can’t be sure why. Considering his circumstances, he doesn’t much believe in luck. Between the two of them, she’d probably make better use of it.

He works his jaw. And then, very slowly. “... you too.”

The door locks firmly behind him, and he starts down the stairs.

“We need to do something about Oto.” Sasuke says on the walk back. Itachi glances down at him. Fugaku turns around. “Why do you say that?”

Oto’s infrastructure is a certified _mess_ and it most certainly _will_ fail now that Orochimaru’s dead - Sasuke should know, he started a coup there. Freeing the prisoners was easy enough, but dealing with the fallout was beyond the scope of what he was equipped to deal with.

Oto is a new nation, and a secretive one. You need to spend time there to fully understand how it works. It isn't quite as centralized as it liked to make everyone think. It doesn't reside under one ultimate governing body. It doesn't have the necessary failsafes that Konoha has to fall back on should their kage die - and Orochimaru had planned to live forever. Without him, everything’s gonna go to shit. They’ve probably already shut down the border.

“I was there.” He replies. “It isn’t like Konoha - Oto’s clans have been warring for years. Now that Orochimaru’s gone there’s nothing tying them together.”

The economy would crash and burn, definitely. He can’t be sure what Kabuto is going to do this time, but he knows he isn’t going to like it. Then there’s the matter of the prisoners - there’s no one around to free them, for one thing. The second: once they figure out Orochimaru is dead, they _will_ revolt, and there _will_ be a bloodbath. The clans aren’t likely to take the lucid ones back, and the ones too mentally damaged to be reintegrated will start to roam the country again. 

Then there are the fighting rings. 

He doubts those are going to stop - the Akatsuki has stock in them, so it wouldn’t do to have those go out of business. There are still benefactors in Oto and out of it that will assume Orochimaru’s role, if Kabuto doesn’t. 

(And Karin and Suigetsu and Jugo are there, too, but that’s completely inconsequential).

“That isn’t our business to deal with.” Fugaku says stiffly. 

“Orochimaru is _Konoha’s_ missing nin.” He hisses. “You didn’t do anything about him and now he killed the Hokage. How is that not our business?”

Fugaku’s eyes narrow. For the month he’s been home, they still haven’t quite got used to each other. He isn’t the same quiet, happy kid they lost and they aren’t quite the parents he saw die. 

“If Otogakure can’t handle it’s own internal politics, then we have no business assisting them.”

He bares his teeth. This is the same rhetoric that led to the formation of the Akatsuki in the first place. 

“Oto wouldn’t _exist_ if it weren’t for him.” Itachi and his mother glance between him. He can taste ozone on the back of his teeth. Konoha’s negligence is _infuriating._ If anyone had lent a hand to Amegakure then maybe Pein wouldn’t have been Madara’s puppet. If Konoha had paid reparations for using Ame as its battlefield then maybe the Akatsuki wouldn’t exist. “If Oto goes down so does Ame.”

And that might spur more direct action from the Akatsuki.

Mikoto turns to him, but there’s only genuine curiosity in her voice that diffuses some of his anger. “How are they connected?”

“Ame’s got a hand in the trafficking going on in Oto.”

All three of them stiffen, but Sasuke plows ahead. “The trade stops there, and that’s where it’s decided where they get shipped to. The most profitable rings are located in Oto, but there are ones in Ame, too.”

Realization dawns on her face. “So if the trade goes down, Ame loses all of the money.”

“And it won’t recover.” Itachi finishes. Ame is an impoverished nation, and having such an integral part of its economy removed will cripple it. 

(Not to mention if they don’t do something about Kabuto soon the problem is going to come right back up, except then they’ll have Orochimaru _and_ a destroyed nation).

“We won’t be able to trade with them either.” He adds, as incentive.

Mikoto’s brow furrows. “We don’t trade officially.”

_“Officially.”_ He says, voice thick with loathing. “Konoha’s been enabling Orochimaru for years.”

And Orochimaru is dead now.

_Wait._

He tries to remember the specifications of their contract - he’s fairly sure if Orochimaru is dead, then that contract is null and void. He won’t need the specific contract if Orochimaru is dead - and he never let Kabuto put his name on it, that had been a major point of contention between them - so there’s no one to inherit those specific rules of summoning. Since he never put his name on it after his, then-

“Sasuke?”

Itachi places a hand on his shoulder. Sasuke suspends whatever argument they’re having for later.

“Where can I buy summoning paper?”

Itachi picks through the rubble, clearing the foundation of a house. He isn’t an architect, but he knows how to differentiate between something salvageable and a project that needs to be postponed, for now.

Kakashi lounges behind him, occasionally stepping in to help. He seems content with watching from the sidelines. 

This is technically below their pay grades, but the alternative was keeping patrol on the wall and he’s too full of nervous energy to sit still for that long. Kakashi, apparently, shares no such concern. 

“Your brother alright?” He calls. 

Itachi glances over his shoulder. “He’s fine.”

He’s barricaded himself in his room, complete with seals and everything, and more summoning paper than he thought strictly necessary. He almost doesn’t want to know what it is he’s trying to summon.

He’s already asked Inoichi for advice on how he should treat Sasuke. He’d requested an evaluation, but for the time being, Sasuke isn’t considered a full citizen because _apparently_ the Council has taken issue with his loyalties. Itachi had almost found himself in that office ready to behead Danzo himself, but Ibiki had reminded him that that wouldn’t restore Sasuke’s citizenship to him.

He’s been trying to heed that advice - to go slow, he can’t expect everything to get better instantly, because something so _obviously_ happened to him even if he won’t tell him what - but nothing’s really happened at _all._ Sasuke still won’t talk, and he always seems… angry, or scared, or something, and Itachi can’t tell, and that worries him more than he can describe. 

“How are you dealing?”

Kakashi isn’t the type to intrude, so he must’ve been quiet for too long.

“He still won’t talk.” He says after a moment. It feels… almost like a betrayal, or like he’s stepping over everyone’s boundaries by sharing this. Itachi doesn’t like talking any more than Kakashi does. He’s been trying to talk to his parents more, and Shisui’s definitely helped, but he doesn’t know if Sasuke can be helped the same way.

“Sometimes things like that take time.” Kakashi says after a long moment, like a sigh. “I couldn’t talk about Rin for months.”

Itachi’s heart clenches. Sasuke has the Mangekyou. There’s no getting around it. 

He pushes another rock out of the way. 

Time. Just give him time. 

Sasuke stands in the mouth of Ryuchi cave for the first time in what feels like years.

A snake with a purple-diamond pattern running down her back lies curled around his feet. Her name is Ryoko.

_“Should you kill Manda, Ahmya will form a covenant with you.”_ She explains. A forked tongue tastes the air. _“He is a foul beast, to have aligned himself with the likes of Orochimaru. The one named Kabuto wishes to negotiate with Manda. We are unhappy with his decision. If he is abdicated from his position as the den leader, we will not be bound by his will.”_

Reptilian eyes stare at him from the rocky crags. 

“I accept your proposal. Where will I find him?”

_“I will bring you to him.”_

From what he can remember, Manda is old - there were always stories between the snakes that he was born beneath the earth, and his discarded skin would form the soil beneath their feet. 

They pass through another tunnel, only to be brought to a large chamber. Manda stands at the center, long fangs bared.

_“Ryoko, what is the meaning of this?”_

Sasuke unsheathes his sword. “At the behest of your sister Ahmya, I challenge you for your position.”

Manda seems to shake with fury. _“You treacherous beast. To have conspired against me - I will have your head.”_

_“The challenge has already begun.”_ Ryoko replies sweetly. _“Any outside interference on your part demands your immediate execution. I have no doubt Ahmya would be happy to comply.”_

From some place far in the back, hidden by shadow, glowing green eyes watch them curiously. 

_“I will kill you, boy.”_ He snarls. _“And then all who call you ally.”_

Chidori ricochets down his sword.

The fight has begun.

Yugito isn’t surprised when the world melds together and she’s standing before Chomei and his Jinchuuriki. Chiha isn’t nearly so lucky, and nearly falls off her shoulder.

Matatabi stands at her back. Fire licks her sides, but its heat doesn’t touch her. She has full confidence that Matatabi wouldn’t hurt her.

Chomei, on the other hand, is a bit of a coin toss. Matatabi doesn’t often talk about her siblings. 

“Sister!” Chomei raises two legs exuberantly, sunset-bright wings fluttering excitedly behind him. “It’s been much too long! I’ve been looking for you for a very long time!”

Fu tips forward onto her toes. “He would _not_ stop talking about you guys.”

Yugito glares up at Matatabi. “You _did_ do something.”

“My dear,” A giant paw raises to poke her shoulder gently. “I’ve done exactly as I said. Chomei is more receptive to the movement of the spirit world than I. The more tails, the more sensitive. It is a shame that Kurama is locked away, and Gyuki is being… difficult.” She huffs steam. “So Chomei is the best to discuss this issue with.”

Fu bounds forward, directly into her personal space. Yugito suppresses the urge to back away.

“Hi!” She greets, no less brightly than Chomei. “It’s been so long since I’ve talked to anyone! I mean, except for that guy with the scythe, but Chomei says he doesn’t count ‘cause he tried to kill me, and all.”

“He _what?”_

“Say, what’s Kumo like? I’ve never been outside Takigakure. They’re real serious about who they let in and out and I’m the Jinchuuriki and all, so they really didn’t want me to go, but eventually Chomei and I convinced them! He was really insistent about seeing his temple but I guess it must’ve gotten destroyed. Probably during all those clan wars that were happening up here-”

“Hold on, a man with a scythe tried to kill you?”

“Yes! He said he was the thrall of Jashin, or something? I don’t know. He was weird.”

Yugito looks her over. Alright, so she encountered the Akatsuki. “How did you get away?”

“Uh, there were some other people who said they’d distract him, and we were supposed to meet up at this one point so I got scared and delayed and by the time I went back to check there was no one there.” Her face falls a little. “Chomei thinks they’re dead.”

“I’m - sorry.” Yugito is somewhat baffled at how quickly the subject changed.

Fu glances at Chiha, perched on her shoulder, regarding them with wide eyes. “Ooh, is this your hawk? What’s her name?”

“She’s not mine.” She says, somewhat faint. “She’s a friend’s.”

_“I’m called Chiha.”_

“Children.” Matatabi drawls. They fall silent. “Chomei, what exactly did you sense? What exactly is amiss in the spirit world?”

“It’s light.” He says. His wings flutter so fast that the air around them seems displaced, and in its place is a shimmering gradient of light. It hurts to look at it for too long. “The distortion is carefully patched together - but hastily. One too many folds. It happens. But the natural ones sort themselves out. No, this is different. There’s… spilling.”

Matatabi’s ears flatten. “Elaborate.”

“Hm, well, pinpricks. When you wear fabric down long enough, it bears holes. It leaves us… unbalanced, in a manner of speaking. We’re not quite us anymore, except we are, because the us that filters over is the same as the us that exists now.”

_“What - what is he talking about?”_

“The Rinnegan traveler, in his haste, failed to account for a few things.” His legs tap nervously together. “Which things I can’t be certain, maybe Kurama would know. But it was a reckless move - he tore something. And something is… unclosed. Pinpricks. You know how it is.”

Her tails lash. “The lost world is bleeding into this one.”

“They’re the same.” He insists. “At their core, they are as one. There are two versions of us that exist simultaneously, the lines are just… blurring. Hmm. I’m surprised the break was so clean, actually.”

“This is… grave news.”

“Oh, is it? Yes, yes I suppose it is. Not lucky at all.” The _chop-chop-chop_ of his wings set Yugito on edge. “Terribly unlucky.”

“Chomei, would you happen to know anything about the creature that calls itself Zetsu?”

“Zetsu!” He exclaims. “The Sage’s shadow. It’s only a story, though.”

“In Taki we have a legend that the Sage’s shadow became sentient.” Fu clarifies. “It slipped into the next world and shows up once a century to cause mischief.”

“...interesting. Does Zetsu have any history with the Sage?”

“Oh, no, I don’t remember. I hate the Jubi’s memories. Such a terrible time.”

Matatabi’s flames go cold. “Chomei, what do you remember?”

“Nothing much, nothing much, just flashes. Echoes. The memories don’t belong to me, you know. You can only get them when you’re not you.”

_“What is he talking about?”_ Chiha whispers. Yugito has no idea. Fu giggles.

“And I’m not feeling particularly blood thirsty right now. But Zetsu! Zetsu is an old, old creature. Older than you or I or the very earth. The Miyabe clan thought him one of the ancient gods of chaos.”

“But what _is_ he?” Matatabi presses.

“You’ve met him, you know.”

“I’m not as perceptive of the spirit world as you, Chomei.”

“But you’ve felt his presence, yes? Very easy to be swallowed up.”

“Like the Jubi, then.” She says, her voice low, the dawning realization warm on her tone. “But when did it attach itself to this world?”

“Long, long ago.” Chomei deliberates. “No, no. More a century, when a soul ripped away from the veil of death. Anomalies are drawn to anomalies, after all.”

“Zetsu has a human host?” Yugito asks. 

“To have physical form, creatures from the spirit world must have an anchor.” Matatabi explains. “For summons, it’s their contract, for Zetsu, a human soul.”

“Then what anchors the Jubi?” Yugito frowns. “If that came from the spirit world too.”

“The spirit world is governed by few rules.” Matatabi explains. “It is in constant movement, constant entropy. But our worlds are mirrors. There are mountains and rivers and there is life - albeit, not the same life that you share here.”

“And cold, empty void.” Chomei adds. “It is layered - not quite like earth.”

“Patience.” Matatabi commands, sensing her disdain. “All stories have truth to them. I will tell you what I know of the creature I used to be. There was little separation, between this world and the next. The veil was thin and permeable, easy to pass between the two. And some did. Creatures meandered and became something else. Touched by spirits, and spirits ventured to earth.”

“Otsutsuki doctrine.” Chomei nods appreciatively. 

“All stories have truth to them.” She repeats firmly. “An old darkness, tossed between great geysers of fire and the cold emptiness of the void, touching the darkness of underground caverns. In these caverns, spaces between this world and the next, the creature, not quite yet a creature, laid. It is said from this great darkness that several creatures were born: snakes, toads, and slugs, that emerged from between forming ribs.”

Realization washes over her. “You mean-”

“The creature was touched by the great, unravelling madness of the spirit world, given incomprehensible power, thrust within a mortal shell. It tore itself from the earth and brought with it the spirit’s madness.”

“The cave that it was created, it became…”

“Ryuchi cave, left behind from where the Jubi tore free from its earthly prison. Mount Myoboku was made fertile by its spilled blood, Shikkotsu forest, built on the bones left behind.”

Yugito bites the inside of her cheek. “What do we do?”

Matatabi huffs. “For a start, have that boy figure out how to use the Rinnegan correctly and patch up that hole he made.”

“We’re getting out of here.” Karin says sternly. Suigetsu presses the pads of his fingers up against the thick glass. “Oh yeah? What makes you think that?”

“Because we’ll die if we don’t. Orochimaru is dead - I don’t have blanket protection anymore, and something tells me that Kabuto’s not going to have any interest in you. So you’ll be stuck here until you die anyway. Are you gonna help me, or not?”

“Or not.” He yawns. Karin has never before wanted to strangle someone so much. 

“Is your skull so thick you didn’t hear the _or you die_ part?”

“I think I’d rather spend the rest of my life in this tank than go with you.”

“You’re-” Karin wants to tear her own hair out. _“Insufferable._ I hate you. God, I hate you. We’re gonna die and I’m standing here having this conversation with you.”

“Hey, hey, why are _you_ gonna die? Aren’t you, like, useful?”

“Kabuto and Orochimaru hardly have the same priorities.” She sniffs. “And Kabuto’s gonna crack - I could feel it in his chakra. Not to mention he _sealed everything shut.”_

Suigetsu pauses. “Oh. Really?”

_“Yes,_ really. There’s no way out of these tunnels that doesn’t involve breaking through them, and then we gotta get over the border. So just _work with me this once,_ you asshole.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll work with you.” He rolls his eyes. “Now get me out of here.”

Karin rubs a tired hand over her face and presses the button.

Mikoto nearly drops her pan on the floor when her son walks down the stairs covered in what looks like some horrifying mix of clear slime that she dearly hopes isn’t mucus or saliva, blood, and something acidic green, and with a _viper_ wrapped around his shoulders, no less. Its head rests on top of his, tail curled loosely down the length of his arm.

She looks at him.

“I got new summons.” He offers.

“....I… see that.”

“Hello.” The snake says brightly, her tone a bit clipped. “I am Ryoko. It is good to meet you, mother of Sasuke.”

“She’s still learning.” Sasuke adds.

Summoning has different requirements, she shouldn’t judge, even though she desperately wants to know how he ended up covered in that. “It’s good to meet you too.” She goes for a friendly smile. She turns back to Sasuke. “Your hawks have already taken over the living room. Can I trust that I won’t be finding snakes in my kitchen?”

His face stays relatively neutral, but she can see something shining in his eyes. “They prefer to stay in the cave.”

She nods succinctly. “Well, dinner is ready.” She gives him another look. “After you shower.”

He hums absentmindedly. “Do you know where I can find Itachi?”

As Naruto walks down the street, there are leering eyes watching him from balconies. This wing has already been opened up. Minimal damage. No casualties.

They look at him like _he_ did it.

And maybe they’re seeing the Kyuubi. Maybe they’re seeing the destruction twelve years ago. Naruto doesn’t care.

There’s a dull ache beneath his ribs. He’s still dressed in funeral clothes. 

The Hokage is dead. It hurts. It sits there, pounding against his temples, a feverish heat at the back of his eyes. 

He thinks about what he said to Gaara. What happened to them isn’t fair - and he knows the Hokage could’ve done something about it. Should have. He shouldn’t have left him to live all alone in that apartment, and he shouldn’t have let everyone treat him however they wanted, and he shouldn’t have lied to him about what he was. 

_“We didn’t deserve that,”_ he had said, and in the same breath, _“I understand why you’re angry.”_

He wants to _let himself_ be angry.

The same woman on the balcony sneers at him. He blinks back hot tears. 

“Naruto!”

Sakura and Ino, running down the street. 

Sakura shifts her weight between her feet. “We thought you shouldn’t be alone.” She glares up at the spot the woman disappeared. “And she had no right to call you that.”

_“I have people who care about me, now.”_

The tears spill over. “I miss him.” He chokes out. “But I’m also - so _angry_. He let them call me that - for _years_ \- and I didn’t even know _why-”_ His voice breaks. “I miss him, but _why would he do that to me?”_

He doesn’t realize he’s on the ground until he notices the pebbles digging into his knees, but he doesn’t care. Ino falls right after him, and wraps her arms around his shoulders. Another wave of hot tears leaves him shuddering, and everything feels too hot and painful and loud, like he’s nothing but exposed nerve ending all over, and there’s a flame held over his synapses.

His throat is tight. He can’t speak. 

“I’m sorry.” Ino says, muffled into his shoulder. “I’m really sorry, Naruto.”

Sakura kneels next to them. He exhales, shaky, and pulls her closer. 

Temari doesn’t see Gaara again until they’re ready to leave. 

They’re surrounded by guards. A few higher-ranking Konoha officials have come to see them off, the head of the Uchiha clan among them. From just behind him, nearly eclipsed by his height, stands Sasuke. She smiles ever so slightly, and he nods, nearly imperceptibly. 

Most people are still too scared of Gaara, or angry, to come.

Her brother stands at her side, nearly wringing his hands. She wants to know what Naruto said to him, to have affected him so deeply.

(She wonders what Naruto said to him that she couldn’t).

She sighs.

That’s - enough. Enough of that. 

“Gaara.” She says.

He turns, and he might almost look nervous. 

“I’m sorry.” She says. “I’ve been a bad sister. I was too afraid to try and help you, and I should have. I… if you want to, I’d like to try again.”

Gaara stares at her, and she resists the urge to fidget. This isn’t the Ichibi, it isn’t the Jinchuuriki, this is just her brother.

He turns away, and her heart sinks. But then-

Very quietly, he says, “I want to try again, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done!! I wrote most of this chapter in like 1 day and then I had like 2 more scenes to write which I proceeded to not write for 4 days.
> 
> -Sasuke 'we're not friends' Uchiha  
> -Yes I did make Temari Kazekage. Temari was like 'I want a better rank' and Suna was like *makes her Kazekage*   
> -Orochimaru: *is dead*  
> -Oto: NOW YOU CAN PANIC  
> -Oto seriously pull yourself together this is embarassing  
> -Yes I did make Zetsu an eldtrich spirit world monster  
> -Kabuto, sealing all the prison tunnels shut: we're all in this together <3  
> -Sasuke got his snakes back!  
> -Sasuke's hawks took over the living room. Sukai is not allowed near the curtains  
> -Naruto's character arc! He should've been allowed to be angry. What happened to him sucks. The waterfall of truth arc steamrolled his character and I'm not here for it  
> -Temari's arc has (somewhat) concluded now that she and Gaara are working towards reconciliation with each other!


	17. Waning Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know this is early but in a couple days I'm leaving for a trip and won't have my computer so I'm just gonna post this now

Obito cranes his neck to stare up at the demonic statue. It looms over them, the lethargic pull and push of its contained chakra like waves lapping at the beachfront. Overwhelming, inevitable, suffocating. It’s mouth is wrenched upon in a perpetual, soundless scream. Two of its nine eyes glow with white light. The third is in the process of opening, as the Yonbi’s chakra is added to the container.

Beneath them, there’s something… _writhing._

There’s a chamber beneath this one, hollowed out and barren. Small, dark and crumpled. 

At first, he thinks it’s Zetsu. Obito has no misconceptions on what Zetsu is; rather, he worries about how he remains. When Madara rewrote reality with Izanagi, he ripped his soul from the claws of death, but touched the spirit world just close enough for Zetsu to reach out. 

After Madara died, he had been under the impression that he would simply attach himself to something else. And he had, for a while, sharing a consciousness with several unfortunate hosts. But if the corpse he’d found outside the hideout three months ago was any indication, Zetsu had neglected to take on a new host. White Zetsu wasn’t enough, since it’s nothing more than artificial life, but even as an incomplete being, it seemed to stabilize Zetsu somewhat.

The feeling bothers him. It’s Zetsu, undeniably. He has no intentions of walking down into the darkness to indulge his curiosity just to witness yet another strange facet of Zetsu’s frankly disturbing biology, but he doesn’t trust him. Spirits are guileful and cunning by nature, but Zetsu especially so. It was clear to see that he had an agenda of his own: what that might entail was anyone’s guess. 

Forming an, albeit rocky, alliance with Zetsu was gambling, but there wasn’t much he could do to get rid of him. Zetsu is old and powerful, better to have him as an ally than an enemy. What he hopes to accomplish is more concerning. The only consistency between this world and the spirit world is emotion: while physical form may change, and consciousness may distort, the emotional core remains. This means Zetsu’s plan doesn’t have to be logical. If Zetsu desires the despair of mankind as so many legends say, then little would stop him from getting it.

Zetsu is untrustworthy, but the spirits know how to barter - and for the right price, Zetsu is valuable to them. 

He waves a hand at Pein, who doesn’t so much as bat an eye at him.

“Tobi has to use the bathroom.”

Kakuzu is the only member physically present, but the other’s holographic images flicker back.

“The fuck’s he doing?” Hidan grunts. 

He skips out of the room, rounding the long side of stone before kicking away dirt and leaves to reveal a wrought-iron grate. He pulls it open with a gloved hand and stares into the pitch darkness within. It smells like a mix of blood and mold, but that isn’t unusual.

“Zetsu.” He lets his voice drop to its natural baritone. 

“Obito.” Far below, two glowing yellow eyes open. Obito’s Sharingan pierces through the darkness, and he can see the uneven line of teeth gnashed together in a jagged smile. His gaze flicks down his form, but there’s no blood to speak of.

“What are you keeping down there?”

It looks like a body. He doesn’t know why Zetsu would want that and doesn’t want to know.

“An old acquaintance.” Zetsu replies. 

Which is decidedly not reassuring. Behind him, through the murky wall of Zetsu’s chakra, there are flashes of… something. Obliquely familiar. Unnatural. 

Obito wonders, where has Zetsu been for the last few months? The Akatsuki are not a bound group: Obito doesn’t dictate what they choose to do off of assignments, but there’s something that bothers him about both Zetsu and whatever he’s harboring in the cave. 

“Obito.” Zetsu starts. The overlap in his voice is disconcerting. “Orochimaru has passed, yes?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Kabuto.”

Zetsu deliberates, a guttural, trilling noise. He blinks slowly, lethargically, like he has to remind himself to. “... Kabuto, I see. You’ve acquired Edo Tensei?”

In development, last he knew. But he should retrieve Kabuto from Oto before the nation goes under - Konoha isn’t likely to extend aid, and all the borders will be sealed. 

He should be going. 

He straightens, slipping back into Tobi’s persona as easily as breathing. “Bye-bye, Zetsu.”

Zetsu tilts his head, the uncanny smile never slipping, and echoes: “Bye-bye, Tobi.”

Sasuke sits on a crumbling ledge while Itachi sorts through the rubble. His gloves are covered in white dust. The next house over, Kakashi is picking lazily through an assortment of destroyed pipes, looking for metal that can be reused. 

His chest aches, somewhere just behind his ribs, like pulling scar tissue.

He tears his gaze away as Ryoko follows his gaze.

 _“Oh.”_ She says. _“Kin?”_

“No.” He runs a finger over her head. “Not anymore.”

Not in a long time, maybe.

 _“Hmm.”_

Itachi glances up at him through his hair. His hair is a little longer than Sasuke’s is. Maybe it’s impractical, but he’d sooner cut off his own hand then let someone come near his head with scissors. Maybe when he gets the time he’ll take a kunai to the worst of it. 

“This is Ryoko.” He says, and bites the inside of his cheek. 

“Snake summons.” Itachi replies, holding a hand out, which she inspects carefully. “Where did you find a contract?”

“They only need a specific symbol.” He replies. And then, bluntly, “Can I put your name on the covenant?”

Itachi pauses, and blinks. “What?”

“Can I put your name on the covenant?” He repeats. He shrinks back a hair. “I wanted to ask. It would be presumptuous to add your name without asking.”

He clenches his jaw as Itachi stares at him.

 _Do you still love me?_ He thinks, but doesn’t ask. And then, worse, _would you still, knowing what I’ve done?_

These eyes are Itachi’s. 

The thought chases itself in circles so tight it spirals. This fear is an untouched one, because there’s no way to approach it without revealing something, without receiving an answer. The paranoia winds tight around his throat like vines, sprouting new, flowering anxieties to pick from. So he must remain here, in the lukewarm purgatory of _would you,_ an eternity of hypotheticals spread out before him, each worse than the last. 

“Of course you can.” Itachi’s eyes are soft, his tone quiet. 

Some of the tension eases, like thawing ice.

But that’s not the question he wants to ask, is it?

“Okay.” He says. Again. “Okay.”

 _“You still must meet with Aoda.”_ Ryoko reminds him. _“He is curious about you.”_

He sighs. “I have to go.”

Aoda is larger than he remembers. He’s coiled many times around tall spires of rock. 

_“Greetings, child.”_

Sasuke scowls. Ryoko left at the mouth of the chambers - she wasn’t permitted to enter. “I’m not a child.”

 _“Everyone is a child, to me.”_ He replies. _“I am told you possess the Rinnegan.”_

He’s gotten so used to maintaining the henge that letting it fade away is more difficult than keeping it up. 

_“Ah. So you are the source of the disturbances among the spirit world.” Aoda ventures a bit closer. He could easily swallow Sasuke whole, but he knows he won’t. “Our cousins - the toads and slugs - speak of you. I fear you have provoked a great beast.”_

“What do you mean?” He frowns.

_“There are whisperings. Great rockslides in Haeju, enough to flatten villages. Floods in Watakushi. Strange plagues of the livestock in Mianshu. Our worlds are two sides of the same coin; when one becomes unbalanced, so follows the other. These rousings are not mere coincidence - but this is not the thing that most concerns me. A great, ancient darkness stirs.”_

He pauses. _“Our kind - along with the toads and slugs - were born from the excess chakra of the Jubi. There is a reason our kind are so feared. Our very heritage is evidence enough of our nature. We are each closely woven into the fabric of the spirit world; I would recognize a chakra so close to my own.”_

Sasuke stiffens. The fear around his heart has calcified like an iron brace. “The Jubi has been revived?”

 _“I was not alive to see the Jubi.”_ He confesses. _“However my mother was born from the Jubi while it was forming. In some ways, she could be considered older. In others, she could be called its child. But the Jubi’s essence had been split by the time I had hatched. She spoke of it often; the Jubi had a consciousness; a gaping void of madness it may be, but as much as it was spirit, it was flesh and blood. We would know if such a creature walked the earth once more. You would know.”_

“What do you suggest I do?”

 _“There is little any of us can do but wait.”_ He replies. _“Perhaps I can show you something. Follow me.”_

He follows beside Aoda as the cave slopes down, following a rock path that meanders through jagged teeth of stalagmites. It gets darker and darker the further they descend, the ambient energy tugging at his sphere of consciousness grows more powerful, until it’s almost nauseatingly. He can feel his heart in his temples. 

The cave ends in a circular chamber.

 _“Here.”_ Aoda says. _“Go no further, for I cannot guarantee your safety.”_

He’s blocking the entrance with his tail. He ignores the dizzying vertigo to peer over - and finds nothing but a black pit of swirling nothingness. He can feel the churning beneath, and the distinct lack of order. Everything in the natural world can be explained or measured by pattern. This isn’t governed by anything at all.

 _“A fissure.”_ Aoda explains. _“Where the Jubi tore free. It connects these caves to the spirit world. It is where we derive our power. As my mother before I, it is our sacred duty to guard it, to ensure that no such evil passes its borders again.”_

He swallows. “What’s in there?”

_“There is no way to know, except to look for yourself. The Jubi occupies it no more, but that doesn’t mean something else hasn’t taken her place. I have no way to defeat the Jubi, should she return - but should she walk the earth again, I know of only one thing capable of sealing it away.”_

“Hagoromo.”

_“You’re well informed. And even then, he only managed to break her soul into pieces. There is no way to kill her - incapacitate and seal away, yes, but she will never truly cease to exist. So long as the pieces exist, she can be rebuilt. The sage was well aware of this: so long as the tailed beasts exist, there could be no peace. Hagoromo was kind, but in his young age, naive. He believed that he could contain the Jubi by becoming its jinchuuriki.”_

_“Only when the beast had worn down his body and soul did he realize his error: by becoming the first Jinchuuriki, he doomed the new generations to years of hardship. He then split the Jubi into nine pieces, but by that point, he was less human than spirit. My mother used to say that he sealed himself here.”_

Sasuke stares down into the pit, and shakes his head to clear his mind of the heavy fog settling over him.

_“Come. We should linger here no longer.”_

They begin the walk back, but he can feel the abyss clinging to his heels, whispering for his return. 

“The snakes I sent to Oto - have they returned?”

 _“Not yet.”_ His tail lashes. _“Soon, though.”_

They pause at the mouth of the cave. Someone is calling him.

He exhales through his teeth, and detaches from the cave.

The world rushes back to him. His knees are locked, an uncomfortable pulling in his shoulders. Itachi looks at him with one eyebrow raised from across the room. 

“There’s someone at the door for you.”

Sasuke frowns. There shouldn’t be anyone waiting for him, unless it’s someone ready to confront him with evidence of his treachery, or something.

He’s not expecting to see Ino at the door.

Itachi stops him before he can slam the door shut, and nudges him onto the street. Sasuke glances over his shoulder to glare. 

“What do you want?”

“Well,” She says, locking her fingers behind her back. “You missed out on a ton of clan meetings, and you’re probably not too involved in clan politics yet, but we thought you might want to meet the other clan heirs.”

“I’m not the heir.” He points out.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t have any responsibilities.” She counters. It’s made by the fact that Sasuke is unfamiliar with so many of his own clan’s traditions that he wouldn’t even need to lie to protect his cover. “Now c’mon, let’s go.”

Sakura twists wood up into great arcs. Her arms tremble as she holds it there for a second, waiting for it to settle. 

“Careful.” Yamato warns. “Your balance is off.”

Sakura has no experience building houses. She’s seen development before, the stone foundation being filled in, but she never paid much attention to the technical aspect. With so many buildings knocked over, there’s no time to wait to start the rebuilding process. 

“Move that beam a little to the left.”

She complies. A bead of sweat rolls down her face.

After the attack, she had raced to find her parents. She’s lucky that both her family and her house were safe. The foundation was okay, they were missing some shingles, but nothing particularly pressing. Her father is away on business - the Haruno are a merchant clan - to Iron. Mom hadn't wanted him to go, not when it was so close to Oto, but they didn’t have much of a choice. 

“You’re getting distracted.” Yamato says. “You should probably take a break.”

She frowns. “But-”

“It’s fine.” He plants a hand on her head. “This is precise work, so it’s best to be focused.”

She sits down on a dust-covered bench with a water bottle, waiting for her brain to sort itself out. Her attention is then caught by a group walking through the street - namely, Ino, Shikamaru, and a dark haired boy she’s never seen before. Looks Uchiha.

Ino’s eyes meet hers, and she waves. She then derails whatever conversation she’s having and proceeds to drag the dark haired (very unhappy looking) boy over to the bench.

“Sakura!” She greets, and shoves the boy in front of her. “This is Sasuke, he’s Itachi’s younger brother. He just… uh, well, he got kidnapped for a little while but now he’s back!”

“Seven years isn't 'a little while'.” Shikamaru deadpans.

Sasuke just scowls. Which is a fair reaction, she supposes.

“... oh. Um, hi.” She extends a hand. His eyes flick down to stare at it, but he doesn’t take it. Awkwardly, she drops her hand. “I’m Sakura.”

They make small talk for a minute. Sasuke, noticeably, doesn’t participate. Neither does Shikamaru, to be fair, but his eyes keep sliding away somewhere to the right. Mid-sentence, a snake appears, looped around his neck. 

She screams. Ino stumbles back. Even Shikamaru seems startled.

The look on his face is unrepentantly flat. Bored, even.

“You have _more_ summons?” Ino rakes a hand through her hair.

“Hn.”

The snake hisses. Sasuke mumbles something in return. Shikamaru is staring at him through narrowed eyes.

“I have to go.” He says, turns on his heel, and walks away. 

“What the fuck.”

“Aw, man.” Ino says. “I had more stuff planned.”

“He doesn’t really seem like a people person.” Sakura points out weakly. “Maybe he wanted an excuse to get away?”

“Even that insinuation is rude.” Ino huffs, planting her hands on her hips. 

Shikamaru still has that look on his face - the one he makes when he’s trying to puzzle out a particularly difficult equation. “You said he just got back? How long ago?”

“I dunno.” Ino kicks a pebble into the storm drain. “A month maybe? Why?”

“Do you know who kidnapped him? Or where he was?”

She frowns. “It’s all classified. What’re you getting at?”

He slides his hands into his pockets. “Just curious.”

“Aw, c’mon. I can tell when you’re onto something, you know. You always scrunch your face up.”

Shikamaru scoffs and turns away. “I’m going home.”

“Hey! You said you’d walk back with me!”

“Too much work.”

“Men.” She shakes her head. She lifts an eyebrow. “Since he ditched us, you wanna walk back together?”

Sakura huffs a laugh, and Ino loops their arms together. “Yeah, okay.”

“How can you be sure?” The lines on Inoichi’s face are drawn and angry. Shikaku stares coolly across the table, his chin resting on steepled fingers. “You’ve yet to show me anything definitive.”

“But you have to admit it’s suspicious, circumstantial as it may be.” Shikaku replies. 

Ibiki drums his fingers on the table. “What evidence do you have?”

Shikaku sighs. “This kid’s been missing for seven years - declared dead. What are the chances of someone like that being alive? An Uchiha, no less. Someone had to have been protecting him. Kids with kekkei genkais, kids from powerful clans, don’t just get out of situations like that. We should’ve heard of someone awakening a Sharingan somewhere. But let’s suppose that he slipped through the cracks, it’s not impossible. Let’s suppose he went undetected for seven years - or someone was covering for him, someone was deliberately keeping him hidden - and then he shows up just as the Akatsuki decide to attack Suna, and then manages to defeat them. Sharingan or not, that requires training. So how'd he do it?”

“The circumstances are suspicious, sure.” Inoichi admits. “But he has no memory of anything. I’ve never seen anything like it before, not even with the girl from Key. There were no implanted memories - there weren’t even any traces of memories. Usually you can’t erase everything but there was just… nothing. If he’s supposed to be a spy, he’s not a very good one.”

Shikaku sighs. “His account doesn’t line up - how quickly would he have had to fight the Akatsuki after waking up? There were sightings in a few different towns which corroborate his story, but it doesn’t explain how he knew how to fight or why he would take on the Akatsuki without prior knowledge of them first. And then there’s the summons.”

Ibiki frowns. “The hawks?”

“It turns out he has something else.” Shikaku sighs. “Earlier Ino was introducing him to Shikamaru and Sakura. According to Shikamaru, he had snake summons. He says that if asked, Ino and Sakura would confirm this. The snake was diamond-back, a Ryuchi snake.”

“How can you tell?”

“The only snake summons are from Ryuchi, and diamond-backs aren’t native here.”

An uneasy silence settles between them.

“So how does a twelve year old become a summoner from Ryuchi cave - which Orochimaru, who just orchestrated an attack on our village, is the only known summoner of?”

“They had to have had a specific contract, if the snake is from Ryuchi.” Inoichi says, like the words are painful. “If they were summoning at the same time, then they would’ve had to have known about each other…”

“But we don’t know. We don’t know how to get the contract, either.”

Inoichi puts his face in his hands. “I don’t suppose Itachi will take to any of this very kindly.”

Ibiki quirks a brow. “You afraid of the kid?”

“Who isn’t?” 

Shikaku could admit, when provoked, especially concerning his brother, Itachi could be terrifying. That silent threat to Danzo hadn't gone unnoticed; Shikaku knew that, if he felt so inclined, Itachi definitely could kill Danzo. Whether or not he _would_ remains to be seen.

“We should wait.” He decides after a moment. “At least until renovation is taken care of.” 

Ibiki kicks his legs up on the unoccupied chair next to him and downs his glass. 

“Then I guess we wait.”

Orochimaru’s prisons are, predictably, chaos. 

The masses have just caught on to the fact that there is no escape. There’s no differentiating them from the average test subject. He has a good idea of what Kabuto is planning; patience is a virtue that one hasn’t quite grown into, yet.

“Did that guy just _teleport_ in here?” A boy whispers. There’s two of them, poorly hidden behind an overturned desk. Research papers scatter the floor - the occasional beaker or test tube joins them in broken pieces. 

_“Shut the fuck up.”_ The Uzumaki girl whispers, no less loud. 

“How come he can get in here? We should ask him to take us with him.”

“Don’t you _dare-”_

Scuffling follows. 

Obito might have actually complied, should they have asked, just out of amusement alone. 

He steps into the hallway, overrun already with wreckage. Chairs and tables and the occasional body, when the violence got out of hand. 

He also notices the snakes. Most of them are small. Young. They don’t spare him more than a second glance as they go about their business. Some of the bigger, more intelligent ones glare at him with narrowed yellow eyes as he passes. 

Curious. They should have returned to Ryuchi cave, after Orochimaru died. Unless Kabuto has been successful in his many attempts to revive him, they shouldn’t be here. 

He takes another turn into Kabuto’s office. It has his name engraved in the plate and everything. How cute.

The door is ajar. Within, the floor is a mess of blood and a mix of chemicals that comes out as a grotesque brown-green. There’s discarded snakeskin pushed to the corner of the room.

Kabuto is hunched in the center of the floor, in the center of a complicated, twelve character seal. The dead snake seems to be the source of the snakeskin. The shreds of paper and blots of ink don’t bode well either. Looks like his plans to revive Orochimaru through conventional means have failed. Sabotage, by the likes of it. By the snakes? 

Interesting.

“You.” Kabuto turns around, and half of his face is covered in scales. 

“Kabuto.” He greets. “I seem to have caught you at an inopportune time.”

He bares his teeth, nearly shaking with rage.

“Zetsu seems to think we should speed up development of Edo Tensei. I understand you intend to use the people here as test subjects?”

“Sacrifices.” He smears his thumb over the ink. “It requires sacrifices.”

“You might not even have any left by the time you’re done.” He replies, unbothered. “The curse-mark test subjects have escaped.”

Kabuto doesn’t seem like he’s listening. 

“Is it complete?”

“Almost.”

“And you have what you need here?”

Kabuto glares, and bites out a, “Yes.” 

“How convenient.” His hand closes around his shoulder, and kamui drags them both away.

Karin tugs Suigetsu up, and they start running.

“I can’t believe you.” She hisses. “It’s a miracle your own stupidity hasn’t killed you yet!”

“Okay, but how did that guy do it? He just - appeared!”

She hisses through her teeth, and closes her eyes. The spheres of chakra roam the hallways. The infected ones harbor the curse mark. Their chakra signatures wobble, unstable, cold and bearing a parasitic infection. Those are the ones they need to avoid. 

There’s one coming towards them from the left, so she breaks into a run, dragging Suigetsu behind her. She means to turn right, only to find the corridor barricaded by wood and tables. 

“Suigetsu, can you break it down?”

“Not without my sword.”

Well, shit.

They keep running, even though they’re going to get boxed in on this end. There’s someone with a curse mark at the end of the hall, but their signature is mostly… benign. Stable. They’re in charge of their mental faculties. That doesn’t mean they can trust them, though. You can’t turn your back to anyone in the prisons without the fear of getting stabbed.

It is, however, the best chance they have. 

“This is a dead end, isn’t it.” Suigetsu pulls his hand free. “Why’d you lead us here?”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice.” She hisses. The only other way is left, and that plunges straight into the unfamiliar signatures. That’s a wing where the dangerous ones were kept. She doesn’t want to exchange one evil for a more dangerous one.

“Are we going in there or not?”

“I don’t _know,_ Suigetsu, how about _you_ try-”

Their bickering is interrupted when a pale boy walks out of the darkness. Karin pauses. She would know him anywhere - Kimimaro. There are dark circles under his eyes and a gaunt look to him, so maybe the rumors of his sickness were true after all. He looks at them, tired, and then to the advancing inmate.

Karin shoves Suigetsu back before either of them can be impaled, but he doesn’t turn towards them. Instead, he pulls a sword of bone from his back and makes quick work of the one on their tail.

Karin blinks. “Um. Thank you. But… why did you help us?”

Kimimaro just shakes his head, and gestures to the other shadow clinging to the mouth of the door. “That’s Jugo. He said you were coming, and wanted to help.”

Jugo shifts his weight between his feet. “I don’t like violence.”

Karin glances between the two of them, and thinks fast. “What’s your plan? Are you gonna stay here and let Kabuto sacrifice us, then? I know he’s working on Edo Tensei. You two could probably get out of here, right?”

Jugo looks nervous. “We could.” He agrees.

“The only way out would require Jugo to-” Kimimaro starts to explain, when a fresh wave of testees turns down the hallway. He turns sharply to Jugo. “Don’t-”

The curse mark on his neck mutates.

Kimimaro sighs. “-that.”

Chiha glides over the skyline to land on Sasuke’s outstretched arm.

“What took you so long?”

Chiha looks especially frazzled. _“So, so many things.”_

He raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

She starts to talk.

Another Jinchuuriki is dead. 

Sasuke retrieves his pack from where he had hidden it under his bed. It wouldn’t fit beneath the floorboards - not like Itachi’s old ANBU mask had been stored away beneath the boards of his floor - and there was no less obvious place to put it. 

Yugito might be next. Or Naruto. Or Gaara. 

He’s heard the arguments downstairs - he’d forgotten how thin the walls are - over him. They always try to keep quiet, but the words filter up through the vents like warm steam. He knows that he doesn’t have citizenship - he couldn’t, not when he’s under so much suspicion. It’s a wonder they haven’t assigned an ANBU team to keep surveillance on him. Maybe because they know their efforts would be wasted.

 _“Is this a good idea?”_ Chiha shifts her weight between her legs anxiously. _“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”_

“Another Jinchuuriki is dead.” He replies. “The Akatsuki are moving faster than they were before. I don’t have time to waste here.”

 _“They’re your family.”_

“And they’ll be dead if I don’t do something.”

It was hard to conceptualize, without seeing the destruction first hand. The sheer devastation that had been the battlefield after Madara was done with it isn’t something he’s ever going to get out of his head. There was a certain silence to it, void of any sound at all. No shuffling. No breathing. No talking. Just him and the silence and Madara, waiting to finish the job.

“All of them.” He yanks at the drawstrings. 

_“They could help.”_ She protests. He almost wants to laugh.

“I don’t even have full citizenship.” He replies. “They’ve assigned me the rank of Genin. They want to keep me close. Clearly they don’t trust me. They won’t authorize this.”

_“If you’re sure.”_

He fiddles with the straps, and checks over his inventory. Rolled up scrolls tucked into pockets, kunai, wire, twine. He can pick up food somewhere on the way - he’ll be branded a missing-nin. Again.

_“They might not let you come back.”_

He knows. Without Naruto’s advocacy, they probably would’ve just killed him.

“Chiha, you’re dismissed.”

She sighs, but disappears in a burst of smoke. 

There’s a knock on the door. He kicks the bag back under his bed and opens the door.

Compared to some civilian sects, the Uchiha compound got off relatively easy.

They’re still cleaning the snake blood off the walls, sure, and some portions of it are cracked and dented, but it’s still mostly standing. None of the houses were touched.

They have a bonfire going - almost as big as a pyre. It’s phoenix fire - he flames fan out and dance, blue and green and pink. In the streets, children chase after each other while music plays in the background.

“What’s this?” He asks. 

“Part of the summer celebration. Father wasn’t going to go through with it this year, at least not until later, but mother convinced him. You don’t know the story, do you?” Itachi asks. 

“What story?”

“Amaterasu purifies the blighted with her divine fire.” He says. “It’s an old story. Here, come with me.”

He follows after, and Itachi holds a folded piece of colored paper to him. 

“What do I do with this?”

“You write something down and toss it into the fire. Symbolically freeing yourself from it, I suppose. Sometimes people throw actual objects in, if they have bad memories attached, or you need to let go of something. It’s a little like starting over. You try.”

Sasuke stares down at the paper with a furrowed brow. After a moment, Itachi throws his own paper in, to be swallowed up by the flames.

It’s almost ironic.

Itachi watches him out of the corner of his eye as he writes. Once he’s done, he folds the paper again, and tosses it into the flames. He watches until it’s burnt to dust.

_A little like starting over, huh?_

Under the cover of night, he slips out the window. Aya is on his shoulder, ready to inform him of any pursuers. 

The streets this late are quiet. He leaps from roof to roof, cautious of any unstable tiles.

He reaches the edge of the wall, and jumps off, landing in a crouch. 

_“There’s someone behind you.”_ Aya warns. 

A figure is perched not too far away on a low roof. Sasuke curses under his breath.

“What are you doing, kid?” He asks. Sasuke blinks, and flicks on his Sharingan. 

Kakashi stares down at him.

He scowls. “What are you doing here?”

Kakashi’s ANBU mask is unfeeling, but he doesn’t look otherwise fazed. “The council is suspicious of you.” He replies. “Considering you’re trying to leave the village, I can understand why now.” Sasuke bristles, but he continues. “I won’t bring you in. I owe Itachi that much, at least.”

Kakashi is technically considered part of the Uchiha clan, and therefore bound by their traditions - their sense of loyalty among them. Uchiha are not bound by the clan but by each other - that was why Itachi was ready to follow Shisui to the end of the world, why he was willing to sacrifice anything to protect Sasuke, and why their parents didn’t so much as move when Itachi killed them.

“I’m not going back.” He says after a moment of silence. His fingers close around the hilt of his sword. 

“Sasuke.” Kakashi warns, and that tone of voice is so achingly familiar that it makes his chest hurt. “Don’t.”

 _“Sasuke!”_ Aya yelps, just as the air behind them warps. 

Sasuke turns, and comes face to face with Obito. Or rather, Tobi.

Tobi waves a jovial hand, his eyes flicking up to Kakashi. Sasuke jerks back. “Hello again, baby Uchiha.”

“You.” He growls, and draws the sword. Tobi doesn’t so much as flinch. 

“Me!” He agrees cheerfully. “So you’re the one with the Rinnegan.”

Kakashi stops behind him, surprise stiffening his limbs. “Get away from him.”

Before Sasuke has the chance to put distance between them, the Mangekyo whirls to life behind the mask, and a hand closes over his shoulder. At the same time, Kakashi reaches out, and they’re dragged beneath the pounding whirlpool of kamui. 

“Naruto.” A heavy voice tears through his dreams. The face of a young boy with black hair ripples, like placid water touched by a leaf. He remembers training sessions that he shouldn’t, bright red eyes whirling to black, a figure separating him from Haku. Snapshots of memories that seem so close he could hold them in his hands. When he reaches out, they crumble like dust.

He’s in water up to his ankles. He’s taller than he remembers being, and at the same time, is as tall as he’s always been. A shadow passes by; dark hair, dark eyes. Sasuke. 

He reaches out; that crumbles, too.

“Come back!”

He turns a sharp corner. The walls turn to pipes and nodules. He knows this. 

“You.” He breathes, and turns to the wall of prison bars at his back. The Kyuubi glares down at him, exhaling steam. 

“Wake up, boy.” He hisses. 

“What are you-”

“We don’t have time for your useless blither.” He bares his teeth. “Something calls your attention.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” His voice is faint. “Why would you help me-?”

“I’ve done nothing _but_ help, you miserable creature. As my vessel, your only purpose is to stay alive.”

“Well, I don’t know how to wake up!”

Molten fury bleeds behind his eyes. “Matatabi,” He growls. “I will _kill_ you for this.”

The world bleeds away, like thick, dripping oil paint over a canvas. 

He slips out of his bed almost on impulse, and peers out his window into an empty alley.

“... Kyuubi?” He asks, and is met by silence. 

He glances back out into the street.

Nothing but empty air, and a sinking feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so yeah I have a trip coming up soon and I won't have my computer so I wanted to be able to catch the comments that I could, that being said if you do comment and I don't reply I'm not ignoring you I just can't reply. I won't be back until the 7th so the next chapter will probably be out on the 8th or 9th
> 
> -Anyways I've been waiting to write that bonfire scene for literal mOnths it has plagued my waking mind every day  
> -Sorry to say that Sasuke has dumb bitch disease and it's terminal  
> -Obito, looking into the pit: zetsu what are you doing down there  
> -Zetsu: *demonic hissing*  
> -Obito: understandable have a nice day  
> -I didn't mean to make Zetsu that creepy and/or threatening but I leaned a little too hard on my horror roots and here we are  
> -Team Taka! My dumbasses are together again (minus one)! I love their chaotic dumbass with my entire soul  
> -Kabuto: *has a midlife crisis so hard he commits advanced identity theft*s  
> -Snake Dad  
> -What's going on with the Kyuubi will be discussed later  
> -Sasuke makes bad decisions pt.17  
> -Obito whatcha up to there


	18. Quasar

Itachi kneels in front of his parents, head bowed. The note that had been arranged so obviously on Sasuke's made bed closes the chasm between them. Brief, but direct: he couldn't waste time while the Akatsuki continued to roam freely. Konoha is less likely to admit its mistake in letting him leave than proclaim him a missing-nin. Few people had known about Sasuke, and fewer had known what he was capable of. Instead, they would probably erase his existence from their records and publish his information in the Bingo Book - his description, at least, and leave out his transient stay in Konoha entirely.

"You understand what I'm going to do, right?"

Itachi can't let him do this alone. He won't. He's been failing Sasuke since he got back. He hadn't caught any of the signs - he'd seen that he wasn't adjusting, that he wasn't talking, that he wasn't getting better, but he'd shrugged it off, content to _give him time._ The covenant should've been a dead give away, an attempt to maintain a connection even between miles of physical space. Now he's let his brother slip through his fingers a second time. 

"You understand that without an acting Hokage, no official will authorize this mission?"

Itachi doesn't look up. "Yes."

Fugaku opens his mouth, but Mikoto grabs his hand and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. Fugaku sighs. 

"We understand."

"When will you leave?" 

"As soon as I can." He pauses. He knows Danzo will spin his defection whichever way he pleases. Maybe he should really sell his impending missing-nin status by ridding the village of his rot once and for all. 

(They'd never let him or Sasuke back then, he knows. So he'll keep his temper in check, for now. He's sure if he needed to, he could have something arranged).

Mikoto leans forward, closing the distance between them, to wrap her arms around his shoulders, tucking his head under her chin. He can't remember the last time anyone held him like this.

"I want you to promise that I'll see you again." She says. "Both of you."

He can't promise her that. She knows he can't.

Fugaku reaches over to rest his hand on Itachi's shoulder, over Mikoto's. 

"I promise." 

Shisui leans back against the painted walls of the fence. A couple of crows flit around his head, cawing playfully as one dips its beaks towards his collar, tugging at his hair. They turn towards him at his arrival. The short sword hanging off his hip should be evidence enough of his intentions. A crow lands on his outstretched finger, and he smiles apologetically. 

"It's a sign of affection."

Shisui huffs. "It's a sign that you've raised a bunch of little monsters."

Itachi lets the tranquility of the moment ground him. The gentle keening of the crows, the rustle of leaves in the wind, the hushed, almost omnipresent bustle of city life in the background. All the things he's going to have to leave behind.

"Shisui," he sighs, and the peaceful atmosphere seems to dampen, like a letter touched by water, its ink smudging and blotted. "You've seen that Kakashi is missing."

He sees the shift in temperament, too. He stops slouching, drawing to his full height. "I haven't seen Sasuke lately, either."

Itachi is relieved and concerned in equal part: relieved that he doesn't have to be the one to deliver the news, that Sasuke is gone again, like he never existed in the first place, their orbits crossing paths briefly before gravity isolates them again. Concerned that Shisui has noticed Sasuke’s disappearance at all, because that means others will have as well. 

"I asked Kakashi to keep him safe." He admits. "I worried that the Council would take action after the discovery Shikaku made. He… his theory about Sasuke's loyalties aren't right. He isn't aligned with Konoha," it takes him a minute to say, biting out the words that sting all the way up his throat. Sasuke doesn't consider their village an ally, and, perhaps worse, that he can understand why.

There are people he loves in this village, that he's been instructed to live and die for. He is still fully prepared to end up a name carved on the memorial stone, fully prepared to sacrifice his life for Konoha - but not for a village that would forsake his brother for death. Konoha is ugly, at its center. Most man made things are.

"But he isn't allied with Orochimaru, either. I've seen him burn down his tunnels - if Orochimaru is affiliated with the Akatsuki as I'm inclined to believe, then Sasuke is determined to destroy him."

"You know how this will look, right? Danzo is definitely gonna run with the Orochimaru theory. If people think that he had a hand in the invasion, and suddenly Kakashi, the man all the Jonin know to have killed Orochimaru, disappears at the same time Sasuke does… it isn't going to look good."

Itachi suppresses the urge to wince, or otherwise convey the storm clouds thundering beneath his ribs like a second pulse, like it could rattle his bones and break open his ribcage. There's no doubt that Danzo will use his brother like propaganda, who will crush any seeds of doubt before they can be sewn. People who ask questions die. Uchiha kids disappear. Sasuke will be an enemy of the state, a tragedy of the clan head, a martyr burned at the pyre of the clan's ambition.

The clan’s ambition for Konoha to treat them like citizens.

He closes his eyes. 

He's done letting Danzo play puppet from the shadows. Not when he's going to string Sasuke up like a marionette. 

"I know." And his voice comes out flat and sharp and cold. "I'm going after him."

And Shisui just smiles, exasperated and knowing, like he expected no less. "I was afraid you were going to say that." He reaches forward to ruffle his hair. "I get it. Can I trust you to take care of yourself?"

Before he has a chance to get a word in, he shakes his head. "Of course I can't."

Itachi frowns. "I'm _leaving,_ Shisui. I'm not sure if I'm coming back."

_If I_ can _come back._

"I know." He agrees. "And if you think I'm letting you do this alone, you're insane."

Itachi stares. "Shisui-"

"No - Itachi, when the coup was being planned, I told you that we were brothers. I meant it. I can't go with you, but that doesn't mean I can't help. We're part of the same covenant. I'll do what I can here to keep the clan from revolting and to keep Danzo off your tail, and you keep me updated so we don't give your Mom a heart attack. I can't promise he won't come after you and Sasuke, but I can buy you time, and I can give him hell."

There's a hot, aching feeling at the back of his throat. 

"It's okay." Shisui promises. "You're both gonna be okay."

"How do you _know?"_ Itachi hates this. The uncertainty. He tries to fall back into Weasel and finds that he doesn't quite fit. The apathy rolls off him like a blanket too small for his shoulders, while an awful mix of apprehension and anger and uncertainty tighten in his stomach. Shisui always just knows - and Itachi always follows orders blindly. He’s never had to wonder what was _right._ Because the orders _are_ right, or they should be. Or he was taught that they were. Itachi has broken protocol for his brother before, broken the chain of command, disobeyed the law that dictated he bring his brother back to Konoha, in chains, if needed. He stood up to the _Hokage._

But he's abandoning the village altogether now, and confronting its fallibility. He's been avoiding the issue for months, avoiding the conflict between the rules the village defined as ultimately, unfailingly right with the traitorous voice in the back of his head that wondered: _is it?_

"Itachi." Shisui's voice is calm where his is flat, ironing out the emotion from his tone. "The village has done terrible things. You _know_ that, even if you don't want to acknowledge it. It isn't some paradigm of virtue. You decide what's right. Leave the village out of it, for once. What's the right thing to do? Itachi, what do you think you should do?"

"Find my brother." He says. His mouth feels numb. 

"Okay." Shisui says, and pulls him into a hug. Itachi stiffens, before resting his forehead on his shoulder. Shisui breathes a laugh. "The village will still be here when you get back, and so will we."

Kamui churns the world into a slow moving whirlpool that drags you down, suffocating you, like your lungs are lined with stones. It never gets less disorientating.

He stumbles to the side, catching himself before he can careen into the cracks between realities, a pounding in his head, a supernova in his throat. Nausea swirls in his gut as he fights for his balance. 

Across from him, Obito observes them curiously. Kakashi stumbles to his feet, shaking off the consequences of side stepping the time space continuum with bleary eyes. 

"Great!" He waves a gloved hand. "Now we won't be interrupted."

Sasuke goes for his sword, viscerally aware of the disadvantage they're both at. Obito is someone he can't hope to fight in this condition. Kakashi is technically sovereign over kamui, just as Obito is, but that’s ignoring the amount of training and conditioning Obito has, and the fact that Kakashi _doesn’t know he can do it._

"What do you want?" He growls. 

"To talk, of course." As light as his voice sounds, traipsing along the edge of _carefree_ and slipping into the dark abyss of _dangerous._ "Terribly sorry to have caught you in my mess, copy-nin."

Kakashi looks between the two of them, and probably draws some incorrect conclusions.

"Little Uchiha." He says. "That eye you have there." His head tilts curiously. Like a dog. "How does one come to possess it?"

"Who are you?" Kakashi asks. 

Sasuke can only imagine the smile on Obito's face - neither humorous nor happy. "Someone long dead." He replies.

Kakashi's visible eye narrows. "The rumors in Ame of a ghost-"

Obito laughs. "What use does a ghost have for rumors?"

He grips the hilt of his sword so tightly it shakes. He could try to finish him here, but they're in his world. And there's no way out-

Well, there might be one. 

"You're not from here, are you, Sasuke?"

He can feel Kakashi's eyes boring holes in the back of his head. 

"Dimension travel would change you, wouldn't it? A pity Pein is reluctant to try." Sasuke is surrounded. Pinned in place by Obito's shrewd eyes, blocked at the back by Kakashi. "There are fingerprints of the spirit world on all of us. Summons, especially. But you're different."

"So how does a child come to possess the Rinnegan? And you hardly seemed surprised by kamui. Anticipating it, even." He tilts his head curiously. "Missing for seven years." He drawls. "Appears just as the Akatsuki begin their conquest with prior knowledge of them…"

"Is there a point to this?" 

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Obito's always been too smart for his own good.

"There's a point to everything." He replies. The pressure in the air shifts, pressing down against his shoulders. His throat is closing up. The glow of Obito's power is reflected on every angle of Kamui, drawing their own. There's no beating him here, even if Kakashi _did_ use his Mangekyo, and the power difference is becoming increasingly more clear.

"Tell me, did your trip happen to include any other passengers?"

Sasuke stiffens. "What are you talking about?"

"Hm." He draws out the syllable.

Kakashi edges forward, as if placing himself between them will make any difference. 

"Don't." Sasuke snaps, watching Obito's gaze wander to Kakashi. "This doesn't concern him."

"You're right." Obito agrees, and Sasuke realizes what he's doing a moment too late. 

Chidori flares to life with the bright chirping of birds. 

He jumps, drawing his sword. _"Don't fight him!"_

Mokuton erupts from the ground in gnarled spikes of wood, bristling with splinters and tapered into points that could break bone. A relatively flat piece smashes into his chest, knocking the breath out of him. The hit itself wouldn't be enough to do more than stun him, but the branches catch his shoulders and wrestle him to the ground. He doesnt have more than a second to aim Chidori at Obito, intending to catch him off guard. 

Mokuton slams him into the ground with enough force to bruise. The wood is too reinforced to break with regular taijutsu. A branch stabs him in the side, narrowly missing his hip, as he struggles. 

He exhales a lungful of fire and nearly chokes on the ash as he burns through Mokuton. Obito clearly isn't intending to kill him - and maybe not Kakashi, either, but between the two of them, Sasuke is the one with the Rinnegan. 

The two are fighting, even as Obito restrains himself. He burns another wave of Mokuton rising from the ground. 

There's only one way out of here. 

The seal on Sasuke's hand burns as he fights the natural flow of chakra away from the Rinnegan. He whirls around to grab Kakashi. The man tries to pull away, and Obito only watches curiously as the Rinnegan pulls apart the fabric of space to give them an opportunity to escape.

The power surge rises like a tidal wave in his chest, hums against his teeth, and sets his skin on fire. He rides the crest of adrenaline until it comes crashing down, leaving him hollow and empty and _cold._

He pulls Kakashi behind him as he stumbles forward, catching himself on his forearms when he falls. He stays there for a second, shivering, his chakra torn between feeding the Rinnegan and the natural path set by the fractured seal on his hand. Sweat rolls down his back like a procession of ants. 

Kakashi is barely upright next to him. 

Sasuke lets out a shuddering breath, and leans his forehead on the ground. 

The Kyuubi never talks to him. Naruto chokes back his unease like molasses clinging to the back of his throat, painted along his teeth as he runs his tongue over them again and again. He sits cross legged on his bed, his covers bunched up at his stomach. The voice echoes in his ears - he needs to move. His knees are stiff and his legs are cramping. 

He remembers… something. It itches at the back of his mind, insistent and angry, tearing apart the cobweb-filled spaces of cluttered memories. Holding onto them is like trying to catch sunlight in his palms; a moment of warmth, the fleeting certainty of his team, Sakura and Sasuke and Kakashi-sensei around him, and then the cold darkness of shadow, a bloody hole ripped in his mind, filled by Ino, but even that can't quite stop the bleeding. 

"What's wrong with me?!" He yells, as if the Kyuubi will respond now if he hasn't the hundred times before. _Kurama,_ the part of his mind, growing untouched, like weeds among a garden, whispers. "I- Kurama?"

He feels the rumble deep in his chest, the reverberations of a thrumming wire. The bars of the prison are thick and binding. 

"The snakes." Comes the rasping, distant sound, like an echo in a large chamber. "Find the snakes."

The connection goes cold. 

"....snakes?" He asks his empty room. "What are you _talking_ about?"

He, predictably, receives no answer. 

When the Kyuubi - Kurama? - mentioned snakes, he didn't think he meant six foot long, talking snakes. The summon raises its head, a forked tongue tasting the air. It tilts its head.

_"Oh? Little fox, that mark on your hand-"_

Naruto recoils. "What - what language are you speaking?"

The only summons he's ever encountered are Kakashi's dogs and Akamaru, the latter of which declined to speak at all. 

She almost seems to laugh. _"My language. As a Jinchuuriki, you are capable of understanding it. Forgive me for prying, but that mark you carry on your palm - it is the counterpart to the one my master bears."_

He feels his heart skip a beat. "What? Really? Who's your master?"

The snake tilts her head. _"My father will wish to see you. Come with me."_

"So," Naruto starts nervously, eyeing the jagged pillars of rock curving up to form the low hanging ceiling, bristling with stalactites. The humidity hanging in the air sinks deep into his bones. His face feels hot. "Anybody can just come in here?"

_"Not at all."_ She replies, maneuvering beneath a rock overhang with grace. He has to leap over it. _"The entrance to this cave is open to the ones that we permit. My father Aoda, he is the largest snake, and the den leader. He scarcely leaves his chambers, so we must go to him."_

"And he can tell me about your master? And this mark?"

_"He can tell you a great many things."_ He notices that she hasn't addressed his question head on. 

They eventually stop at the mouth of a cave. 

_"I can go no further, but he has been notified of your arrival."_

He swallows. "Um… okay, uh… thanks…"

She stares expectantly at him, and he steps inside. 

Naruto stares down into a swirling pit of madness. The fabric of the universe, visible before him. A crack.

_"The place of the Jubi's birth."_ Aoda explains. _"It meanders between this world and the next, and you might not be able to tell which is which. If you wish to enter the fissure, I cannot guarantee that I can pull you out."_ The unease is heavy on his tone. _"You may never leave again, and even if you do - you may not emerge the same. But I agree, that mark on your hand - what I mean to say, is that you may be able to find the answers you seek."_

"That's the plan." He mutters. "Even if you can't pull me out, Kurama can."

There's a moment of pause. _"If you are certain."_

"Kurama," he asks. His hands are shaking. "We're certain, right?"

The reassurement on the other side is a brief comfort. 

"Okay." He says. "Okay, I'm gonna go now."

The world folds around him. 

"Has anyone seen Naruto lately?" Ino kicks at the critically cold water of the bay with her open heel. Her sandals lay in a heap a few feet away. Her mother is helping Ren settle into his new house this week, and her father is away on business - bartering for land somewhere in the countryside. Her brothers are both on missions, so she’s staying with Choji for a few days. Their family restaurant sits at the end of the street.

It’s a long walk to the hospital, but she doesn’t mind. 

“I dunno.” Sakura replies. “I could check his apartment.”

She sighs. They haven’t gone on any missions in awhile - probably because they’re so swamped with reparations. Authorizing missions isn’t impossible without an acting Hokage, but it does make it hard to authorize non-essential ones. Kakashi is apparently tangled up in his ANBU obligations, which is why he hasn’t been around, but she hasn’t seen Naruto much since the attack.

“You think he’s okay?”

Sakura shrugs again. “Probably not. The last Hokage was kinda a dick, wasn’t he?”

“You probably shouldn't begrudge the dead.”

“What, is he gonna come and strike me down?” She waves a stick in the air. “Seriously. I don’t like what he did to Naruto. We’re supposed to be a team and… I didn’t even know.”

Ino bumps her shoulder. “Hey. C’mon. It’s not our fault.” She pauses, and grimaces. “It’s a little bit our faults, ‘cause we contributed, but… I don’t think he’s hung up on that part. But yeah, dick move.”

Sakura stabs her stick into the dirt wedged between the cobblestone. “I’m just - if we didn’t know about that, what else don’t we know about? I had to keep Mokuton a secret because… it was supposed to be to ‘protect me from backlash.’” She huffs. "I just - what _else_ did he do?"

Over the bay, they can see the boats docking in the port. On the West side, it’s framed by a backbone of pointed rock and crowned by two bleached white lighthouses. This time of year the monsoons are predictable, and the sailors from the East come over to trade. Ino counts them. A stout little fishing boat bobs along in the water, a collection of twisted nets at its hull. 

“You-”

Ino is interrupted by the scuff of approaching footsteps.

She squints at the figure. “... Shisui?”

She knows him from his interactions with TI. Her father talks about him sometimes, but only when their responsibilities overlap.

He grins cheerfully and waves a hand. “Hey. You two are part of Kakashi’s team, right?”

“Yeah.” She replies, drawing a knee to her chest. 

“Well, that’s good.” He unrolls a scroll, only to reveal a signature and stamp on the bottom. “So, you guys wanna find the next Hokage with me?”

“Her name is Tsunade.” Shisui explains, now that they’re situated at a table. They’re seated at the pavilion outside the Akimichi’s restaurant. Ino nibbles at the plate of korokke Choji’s mother placed on the table earlier, insisting that they didn’t have to pay. “They already sent ANBU and some officials there to negotiate, but they figured it’d be good to have some clan representation. Kakashi was supposed to bring you, but, well… he’s not available right now.”

Sakura frowns. “Why would we help the negotiations?”

“Tsunade’s got a soft spot for kids.” He leans his head on his hand. “She’d never admit it, though. Besides, it’d be good to have a Yamanaka there, and a healer, no less. Not to mention she’ll want to take a look at you, Sakura, since you have Mokuton and all. She’s the last living member of the Senju clan, so she might take an interest in that.”

“Okay, so what about you?” Sakura’s eyebrows furrow.

“What about me?”

“You have reasons for everybody else to be here. Why you?”

“Well, there aren’t a lot of options to choose from. It would’ve been better if Kakashi could’ve brought you, since she knew his father, but there aren’t many Jonin around to spare, at least, not any they trusted to get the two of you there in one piece. Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of the way. Tsunade doesn’t like Uchiha much.”

Sakura frowns. Ino can tell she’s still upset about earlier - about the things said about Naruto. In that same vein, she supposes the way people talk about the Uchiha would upset her too.

“And why’s that?” 

Shisui’s smile doesn’t so much as flicker, but something in his eyes darkens a shade. “The same reason why anyone dislikes us. That, and she’s a Senju. I figure she hasn’t let go of that particular grudge.”

Sakura scowls and balls up her napkin. 

“That.” She says. “Is bullshit.”

Shisui’s eyebrows raise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He snorts. “So, you two up to it? We only need a three man unit so if your friend can’t make it it should be fine.”

“I can check his apartment.” Sakura offers. “I stopped by earlier but he wasn’t there.”

They exchange glances, and Ino leans forward on her elbows. 

“How soon do we have to leave?”

Zetsu smiles crookedly. Obito wants to kick his teeth in, if only because he wonders if they would grow back.

(Plants should not have _teeth)._

Pein glares over at the two of them. It’s hard to tell that he’s glaring, considering the lower half of his face is concealed beneath his collar, but Obito can feel it. They both know well enough that Zetsu will only directly interact with Obito. None of them know why it is. He privately theorizes that it has something to do with kamui. 

“Tobi, don’t provoke him.” Pein warns.

“Tobi’s sorry! He’ll be quiet now.” 

One of these days, he’s going to burn Zetsu to ash, just for the fun of it.

Zetsu smiles wider, as if he could tell what he were thinking. Obito would then have to add that to Zetsu’s steadily growing list of latent abilities the rest of them don’t seem to be aware of. It’s alarmingly long. 

If their goals weren’t aligned, Obito would’ve killed Madara for bringing this thing here in the first place. 

Konan watches the from the shadows. She’s always been perceptive, frighteningly so. He wonders sometimes if she can see through Tobi.

They’re talking about the armies they have aligned - people who are sick of being beaten down by the very system that was supposed to protect them. The Shinobi system is a gloriously convoluted lie, the likes of which are fascinating. Obito has been left for dead because of it, nothing but a name carved onto a stone, glorified for having given up his life for the village. 

(Poor, poor Kakashi.)

They're starting to mobilize, which means development of Edo Tensei is coming along nicely. Kabuto is much more motivated now that Orochimaru is gone. Obito doesn't consider his death as much of a loss at all. 

Then there’s the matter of the two Jinchuuriki on the run. Hidan and Kakuzu have been assigned to deal with those two. The Jinchuuriki of the Nibi is going to be difficult to take down, certainly. 

By the time the meeting is over, Zetsu is still staring at him. Obito counts the ways he could end his miserable existence here and now.

The rest of the group trickles outside. Zetsu disappears into the ground. Konan stands under the overhang of rock, dripping with rain. The rain here is almost ever-present. 

“Tobi.” She greets. The rain hums a symphony on the rock. “I always thought Zetsu’s fixation with you was strange. Just as strange as your admittance to this organization. Pein tolerates your presence because you keep Zetsu occupied.” She glances at him. And for Konoha’s secrets that he’s parted with. 

“There were stories - of spirits stuck on earth, vengeful things. Spirits are deceptive things.”

“Oh? You think Tobi is a spirit?”

“You’re something.” She sighs. “Tell me, Tobi. Why are you here?”

“The villages sacrifice their children and call it glory.” He replies, letting himself slip back into Obito, just for a moment. Konan is not someone to appreciate dishonesty. She stares at him. “Their peace is built on someone else’s suffering. They have nothing to offer me.”

“I see.” She replies. “I will follow Nagato to the ends of the earth. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

He giggles. “Of course.”

“Well then. I suppose I have nothing to offer you either.” 

“Don’t be hasty. We can both be content to let sleeping dogs lie. It’s best not to dig up my bones, don’t you think?”

She scoffs. “Your past doesn’t concern me. If you aren’t a danger to Pein’s ideals, it’s of no matter to me.”

He rocks back onto his heels. “Glad that we could come to an agreement.”

Konan gives him another look before retreating back into the cave. 

“The seal that silences Kurama is weak.” Matatabi muses. Yugito hops over a rock, glancing behind her to make sure Fu is keeping up. She’s chatting amicably with Chomei, her bubbly persona not diminished in the slightest by the cold gale tumbling down the mountainside. All Jinchuuriki run hot, but Yugito especially so. As such, she’d given Fu the spare cloak in her bag, because the difference in climate between Kumo and Taki was so drastic that it would be jarring even for someone like them.

At least it’s better than the cold, mist-riddled bogs from before.

“You could contact him?”

“It remains to be seen.” She replies. “It’s… strange. I haven’t a clue what would cause such a seal to loosen… Uzushio was renowned for their Fuinjutsu.”

“Hmm.” She hops to a higher rock self to get a better picture of the snow-dappled valley below. It’s cold for this time of year, and the water coming off the ocean certainly isn’t helping. Below, near the coast, storm-bellied petrel soar in lazy circles.

They need to restock. Fu needs to get back to Taki. She’s not willing to compromise the safety of the Jinchuuriki, not when the threat of the Jubi possibly being reawakened hangs over their shoulders. If such a thing were to happen…

Well, based on those carvings, it wouldn’t be anything good.

“Matatabi. Why would anyone want to awaken the Jubi?”

She deliberates, a rumbling sound like popping coals. “I’m afraid I’m not the one you should be asking. I know only the mindless destruction of the Jubi - why any creature should desire that, I don’t pretend to know. The only thing is…”

“What?”

“There is a story among the Hatake clan. It claims that the spiritual aspect of chakra was shared by the spirit world, when the borders between us were so thin they were nearly imperceptible. I don’t know what use that would have now.”

Yugito works her jaw. “I imagine that would have… severe ramifications?”

“The likes you wouldn’t believe.” Matatabi replies. “The next world abides by no laws, but this is why it does not easily mix with other worlds. That is why the Rinnegan tore a hole through it when used.”

“What exactly is the Rinnegan?”

“It depends on who you ask.”

“Well, I’m asking you.”

Heat rolls over her as Matatabi snorts. “Some claim it to be a mutation, others a product of the Jubi’s time, when a skill developed that had the ability to contain such a creature. Others think it a gift from the spirits, or a phenomenon produced when Uchiha and Senju genes mix in the right way. Perhaps some combination of the above.”

“And Hagoromo is the only one to have ever obtained it?”

“Correct. He spent the rest of his life attempting to reestablish the divide between our worlds so that the Jubi would never again be awoken.”

A lot of good that had done.

She glances back at Fu. “Have you seen any buildings yet?”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’. She blinks. “Wait, Chomei’s saying there’s something down there.”

She points to the dark roof of a building concealed beneath the dark green coat of pine trees. “He says we should hurry.”

They exchange looks, and start down the mountainside.

The building turns out to be a bar, which Fu is definitely too young to be let inside of.

A man leans against the wall, tapping the butt of his cigarette so the shavings fall to the ground.

“Stay here.” Yugito instructs. Her eyes dart to the man. “Yell if you need help.”

Fu salutes. “Yes Ma’am!”

Fu is a Jinchuuriki. Yugito has no doubts about her skill, but even the suggestion of vulnerability is all that you need to attract certain breeds of violence. 

She walks inside, and the warmth of the radiator in the corner washes over her, followed by the sickly, overpowering smell of alcohol. The bar is sparsely populated. The bartender glances up from the glass he’s cleaning.

“Can I help you?” His voice is rough and flat, the clipped northern accent clinging to his words. 

“Do you know where the nearest town is? I need to resupply.”

“A kunoichi, then? I don’t see a headband.” His eyes flick to her forehead. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

She forgot the fear of Shinobi in these parts - it makes sense. Frost produces nearly no Shinobi, and considering that Iron, made up only of samurai, has repeatedly had their resources taken by big nations, their mistrust makes perfect sense.

However, she has no time for this.

Around her, the outline of Matatabi, wreathed in glowing blue fire, dances. Two tails lash behind her.

“I’m the Jinchuuriki of the Nibi.” She says, her voice like steel. “Would you happen to have a map?”

He stumbles back, dropping his glass on the floor. It shatters.

“Yes - yes, I-” He disappears into the back. 

Matatabi sighs. “You abuse my power.”

Yugito can only shrug. “It’s efficient.”

Yugito emerges from the mouth of the bar with a neatly folded map tucked under her arm. She needs to lace up her boots again - the ankles are getting too loose. The standard sandals that are widespread in warmer nations like Konoha and Suna aren’t suitable for colder, more mountainous territories. Getting her hands on a good pair was more difficult than anticipated. 

She scans the empty surroundings.

“Fu?” She calls. Silence. 

She whirls around. Alarm bells go off in her head.

“I told her to yell.” She hisses. Matatabi’s fire reaches its flashing point. Matatabi’s anger tastes like ash in her mouth.

She tears around the side of the building, only to find the man from before lying in a pool of his own blood, and no sign of Fu anywhere.

Frantically, she studies the footprints in the snow. There’s a pair leading away from the body, sunken in with blood so warm that it sits evenly on top of the snow instead of mingling with it. 

Fu is gone. 

_Shit._

The movement beneath the statue continues to grow. The other Akatsuki members, thankfully, have neglected to intervene. Obito is spirit-touched. Having come so close to death, he knows the shape of it. Zetsu poses less threat to him than anyone else. 

And the Uchiha boy, of course. He mulls it over in his mind. His long lost second cousin, he should think, finally reunited with their clan just to disappear again. A boy bearing the Rinnegan. 

Without the other Akatsuki members clogging the space with their chakra, the malignant one becomes all the more apparent. It weaves threads below, as if planting roots, the noose of a deadly parasite. But Zetsu is gone. He searches the area for a trace of him. There are pathways, burned into the trails from his chakra, easily distinguishable from the rest. It seems to sink into the earth, taking root in the soil and festering there. 

The strongest one leads away from the base. 

He probes for the center of the mass. Surrounding it, on the fringes of the core, the prongs of a seal like that of the ones Minato used to sew seals of protection into the hems of their clothes - an old Uzushio tradition carried over by Kushina. This one is much more complicated, sure, but the main characters uphold the integrity of the seal. One character, for protection, the second, the first character for the word _Koi,_ for balance, the third, the character for _Ox,_ strength. He's never seen them combined like that before, each powerful enough to overwhelm the other, linked carefully by complementary seals, avenues of light connecting stars. He's never encountered a sixteen-pronged seal before; it figures that Zetsu would know how to create one. 

He locates the inner three points. The characters spiderweb out across the spacious floor beneath. If the Uchiha boy used the Rinnegan, then it would explain the disparities he'd encountered in kamui, which moved parallel to the spirit world, and the change in Zetsu's behavior. If nothing else, he was a creature of habit.

But how had the boy acquired the Rinnegan? The Uchiha clan forbade it's people to have children with the Senju clan because often their genes overpowered the Sharingan and prevented its awakening - which would ultimately prevent the awakening of the Rinnegan, which was why the phenomenon was so uncommon. 

Obito's own mother had been of Senju lineage, a distant relative to the bloodline. His father had been forbidden from marrying her, and when they both eventually lost their lives in the field, the Uchiha clan had refused to take charge of him, assuming his Sharingan would be suppressed. He supposes the lineage that his clan had condemned him for was also the thing that had saved his life. 

So how had he come across it? Say he was one of the lucky few that was compatible, and had the potential to produce it naturally - even if that were the case, every stage of the Sharingan, including the Rinnegan, was awoken by extreme interference. Unlikely that someone that young could awaken it, without some form of outside help. Orochimaru? No, if he had stolen an Uchiha child - one of the clan heirs, no less - he would have known. 

But had he come from another world altogether-

Yes, he supposes, that would have to be it. 

And whether it had been intentional or not, it seems like something hitched a ride.

Kamui warps him into the empty space beneath, reaching to fold the universe in two and deposit him on the other side. It pauses for a moment at the roaring mass of chakra beneath, before parsing through it and landing him in the heart of the chamber. 

And something breathes. Wet. Choked. 

Obito takes a step closer. He doesn't really want to see Zetsu's latest victim, but at the very least he might be able to put them out of their misery.

What the seal was for, though, was anyone's guess.

He edges a step closer, toeing the rock. No blood. That was… he was going to consider that dubiously good.

And then he sees the figure.

He pauses momentarily, and then looks again, just to be sure. 

Lying there is no other than Madara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back!! I wasn't planning to have this out until tomorrow but I basically wrote this entire chapter on my phone while I was gone and then edited it on my computer so I was finished early so... here it is! If there are mistakes it's because I'm running on like, no sleep
> 
> -Did I write like 2k of Itachi getting hugged?? Yes, yes I did  
> -He's going through it. Leaving the village for him would probably a Really Big Deal, considering how entrenched in that culture he is  
> -Sasuke and Naruto are two halves of a whole dumbass  
> -Kakashi's 'naruto is doing something stupid' instincts are going off  
> -Because he's doing something stupid  
> -You thought I was gonna sleep on Aoda's pit to hell?? Never  
> -I want Yugito to kick someone's ass so badly  
> -Fu is probably... not doing great at this exact moment  
> -Why does Zetsu have teeth? Horrible and disgusting. You don't need them. Put those away  
> -Obito wants to kill Zetsu so much and it's so fun to write. I'm changing his character motivations around a little bit because what canon did to him is very uncool. He's very much against the system and more like, doesn't like what the villages do to kids specifically because he has the strongest memories of him, Kakashi and Rin as kids and I feel like, considering everything that happened to him, he would've connected with that motivation a lot better. In that same vein, he definitely wasn't trying to kill Sasuke, just restrain him  
> -No I'm not killing Konan. She deserved better!!! Why did Kishi kill off the only woman in the Akatsuki. Like. Dude  
> -The war is probably gonna look more like an actual war than whatever was going on in canon. I'm not gonna lie I didn't watch like half the war arc bc it was so long and disconnected  
> -Zetsu where the fuck did you find that. Put him back immediately


	19. Fomalhaut

A hot, dry breeze rustles the white curtains by the great, open window. It’s a particularly hot day in Suna, unsuitable for anything but lounging and trying to maintain some measure of hydration. Outside, the wind carries on it the sickly-sweet scent of flowering whitethorn, and the cries of children splashing in the river that snakes through the city. 

Temari sets down her pen and stretches out her hand. She’s been attending to paperwork that had piled up since her father’s death; she has to help Konoha’s (almost complete) reconstruction, reimburse the damage dealt to the city, not to mention the negotiations she has going on with the regional Daimyo. He really is _insufferable._ If she weren’t quite so restrained, she might’ve sent him to his premature grave herself.

Being in this room is a little strange, if she thinks about it for too long. The table is filled with religious artifacts. A careful arrangement of salt-dipped thorn branches in a jar, to ward away spirits. The mosaic glass windows are covered by sheets for three hours a day, imported silk thread spun by cedar moth cocoons and dyed with cochineal. 

The sharp snap of a hawk’s wings gets her attention.

She stands, crossing the carpet-covered threshold of her chambers to the window.

A red tailed messenger hawk soars over the low roofs of houses, covered in vines of cat claw.

The hawk lands gracefully in the open window, steadying itself, before holding out its leg. There’s a scroll tied in delicate gold string.

The hawk has sleek, glossy feathers and perfectly trimmed claws. It stares at her imploringly while she takes the note. She rolls her eyes and scratches its head.

“You’re spoiled.” She tells it.

The hawk tilts its head.

She carefully unties the scroll.

The edges are embroidered with gold, and she very dearly hopes that the Daimyo doesn’t want to have any more audiences, because this time, she really might kill him.

The letter starts in his pompous scrawl and she wants to hit her head on the table.

After a moment, there’s a cautious knock on the door. 

“Come in.”

Gaara shuffles through the door. He hesitates before fully coming into the room, glancing at everything with anxious eyes. He’s the only one that’s ever been in this room, and she doesn’t have to know what happened to realize it was bad. She had everything replaced; the tables, the carpets, everything.

“What is it?”

He ignores the chair in front of the desk. 

“Shukaku is being loud.”

His control had gotten better, once he’d been forced to confront Shukaku, but there are still… accidents.

“What’s he saying?”

“Something about,” He shifts. “Kurama. Something is happening.”

He twitches. Shukaku is probably yelling.

“Kurama?” She frowns. “Who’s that?”

“One of his…” Another wince. “Siblings.”

“One of the other tailed beasts?”

Curious. 

"Alright. Try writing down what he says.”

He’s still staring. Temari sets the scroll down and waits for him to string together a sentence.

“The Daimyo.” He says after a minute.

“Unfortunately.” She agrees. “They’re calling for a Kage summit.”

Gaara looks thoughtful. “Do you want me to kill him?”

Honestly, the death of the Daimyo would be more of an inconvenience than it would be morally reprehensible, but she doesn’t want to deal with the fallout. “That’s alright.”

He nods.

She sighs and folds the letter.

Looks like there’s a summit coming up.

“What do you mean, he’s _gone?”_

Inoichi is in the process of updating the Bingo Book. New additions are so frequent that it’s difficult to stay up to date with them. New reprints come out every week. Inoichi has just signed off on Sasuke’s profile. It had taken hours of coaxing, mostly reminders that the Council would commandeer the project if he refused, and then they’d have no control whatsoever about what went into it. He’d grit his teeth through it, because Sasuke was dangerous, even though he wasn’t an enemy. 

Ibiki exhales a ring of smoke. He's recently back from an interrogation with a spy that is suspected to have Akatsuki affiliation, but based on his expression, he didn't find anything useful. “I mean, he’s _gone._ Itachi became a missing-nin.”

Inoichi _should’ve seen this coming._

“We should’ve figured.” He sighs heavily. “I thought he was committed to the village, but-”

“But why would he be committed to a village that had no regard for his family or his clan.” Inoichi finishes. The cold edge of bitterness sharpens his tone. He doesn’t see Itachi much, but knowing what he’s like - he should’ve known. He should’ve anticipated this.

But even if he did, he isn’t even sure he could’ve stopped him. If he would have.

“I’m not putting another kid’s name in this damn book.” He shakes his head. “Find someone else, Ibiki.”

Ibiki sighs. “Inoichi-”

“No. You’ll find another damn person.”

He slams the file on the table and reaches for his coat. He’s seen ANBU gut themselves in their own homes, because he’s the only licensed therapist in the entire country that has clearance high enough to counsel them. He’s seen kids used as battle fodder and he’s seen Jounin destroy themselves out of grief and he’s seen the Academy rank six year olds. 

Inoichi has the experience and the education to _know_ why it’s wrong. Propaganda is harder to worm into your skull when you know how it works.

Ibiki’s gaze is sharp and heavy. “Yamanaka, take the night off. You need to cool down.”

(The only way out of ANBU is death, whether in the field or at the hand of a colleague once you’ve outlived your usefulness).

He turns in the doorway, and takes a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”

Kakashi has no idea where they are or how they got there, but he has the sneaking suspicion that it has everything to do with the Rinnegan that happens to occupy Sasuke’s left eye. Moreover, the way the man had spoken to Sasuke was as if they had prior knowledge of each other, which wasn't impossible considering Sasuke's status as an S-class threat, but it was still... strange. There was no point entertaining any theories yet, though. 

But _how had they missed that?_

He’s not conscious. Occasionally, glazed over, feverish eyes will open, and he’ll mutter something about the seal, or a tailed beast, and drift off again. He’d almost be grateful for the fever from keeping him from succumbing to the cold. He doesn’t exactly know where the brat got them stuck, but he does know it’s cold, and Itachi _will_ kill him if he lets his brother die of hypothermia.

His eyes open again. Kakashi glances down at him, and sees something almost like coherency. “You awake, kid?”

Sasuke stares at him, and then his head rolls back. He squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re not real.”

That’s the first comprehensible sentence he’s said since. It would be good if not for how abjectly alarming it was.

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re dead.”

That gives him pause. He has absolutely no idea why he thinks that, or how to respond to that, even. Luckily, he’s saved from making a decision, because not soon after, the tide of exhaustion pulls him under again. 

Kakashi sighs. 

The clouds above don’t look promising

He needs to get to somewhere with a medic soon.

“The answer is _no,_ brat.” Tsunade knocks back another glass of whatever alcohol is the strongest they have. Technically they’re not seated at a bar, because none of those should be allowing Ino or Sakura in, but technically is about as far as that designation will go.

“Well.” Shisui swirls his drink, leaning forward. “What would convince you?”

“Nothing. I’m done with Konoha.”

“Is that so?” He purrs. “Because if I pulled the right strings, I could get you branded as a missing-nin. It wouldn’t be too far off.”

She glares over the top of her class. “Try it, and I’ll earn that status.”

“If that doesn’t persuade you, will knowing that Danzo is next in line for the position?”

She gives him a severe look. “So that’s why they sent you.”

“And because I _oh-so-treasure_ the time we spend together.”

Her lip curls in disgust. “As sickening as Danzo is, I don’t owe the village anything.”

“Danzo’s been taking Uchiha kids.” He says. Sakura and Ino stiffen. Tsunade doesn’t look surprised. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? It’s not a very well kept secret. If Danzo becomes Hokage, he’ll kill the rest of us. You’re the only other candidate that they’ll accept. If Danzo does become Hokage, the Uchiha clan will revolt. And I can’t guarantee you’ll be forgiven for your complicity.”

Her eyes narrow. “Are you trying to guilt trip me?”

“I’m making a promise.” His smile hasn’t slipped. “If Danzo uses his power to kill more of us, their blood will be on your hands.”

“I’m not scared of you, kid.” She sighs. “Look, I’m sorry about your clan-”

“This isn’t _about_ the clan. I just got my little cousin back after seven years. I promised Itachi that I would keep them both safe. I _swore,_ Tsunade.”

She blinks, and exhales. “You were that certain you could convince me?”

“More desperate.” His grin is lopsided. 

“What makes you think I’d make a good Hokage?”

“Your decades of experience?” He raises an eyebrow. “Here, you can have this crisis by yourself, I’m going to get some water. Please don’t traumatize the children. Or give them alcohol. Don’t do that either.”

“No promises.”

He rolls his eyes and makes for the bar.

“-and once he tried to pick a fight with Katsuyu-” Tsunade snorts. “That didn’t end too well for him.”

“Stop telling them about my checkered past.” Shisui whines. “I may have made some… questionable decisions in my youth.”

“You’re twenty.”

He slides back into the booth. “So? Have you made up your mind?”

“I’d hoped I’d never have to go back there. I suppose that was naive of me. If you're here, then I don't really have much of a choice.”

“Somehow, I feel like indulging in rampant alcoholism and gambling isn’t helping.”

“Well, lucky for me. Now I have both.”

Sakura and Ino aren’t engaged in the conversation whatsoever. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry it came down to this.”

“I didn’t do it for you, brat.”

“Sure you didn’t.” He grins. “And I’m sorry anyways.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just for that, I’m making you part of my personal guard at the upcoming summit.” At the look on his face, she smiles triumphantly. “I knew about it already.”

Shisui hangs his head. “I take it back, you’re the _worst.”_

Obito perches on a low ledge of rock. Meetings with the Akatsuki have become more frequent, now that Kabuto’s almost finished the development of Edo Tensei. Soon, he’ll descend upon the prisons of Otogakure like a hungry vulture and take whatever test subjects he needs.

Pein is discussing the tribal warfare that they’d orchestrated along the northern border of Iwa, intended to make it difficult for the North to deliver aid should it be needed. Otogakure is a minefield and no army would dare cross its soil with the intention of getting out unscathed, for more reasons than one. The many territorial clans along with the test subjects harboring the curse mark roaming the countryside made journeying across it virtually impossible.

Trade along Amado sea has been closed, Yukigakure’s ports shut down for fear of bringing the curse mark into their isolated nation. 

The territories to the West of Suna, which provided oil to the Five Great Nations, has been secured beneath Akatsuki rule. Kusagakure is unlikely to extend aid to any of the nations that have trampled over it time and time again, and its naturally inhospitable territory made it less of a target. Amegakure and its surrounding territories have been secured as well. Normally, this would make them a target for bordering regions, but Iwa is barely handling the financial crisis that comes from extreme inflation and the land of rivers is battling the latest pandemic carried down the main rivers by traders.

Their armies are hidden now among the mountains of the Land of Birds. Messenger hawks blend in easily there. It would’ve been beneficial to seal off the Land of Steam, as well, but between the situation in Oto and both Iron and Frost’s fear of Shinobi, it won’t be easy to capitalize on their resources. 

He’s decided that he needs to keep a closer eye on Zetsu. 

(Madara is alive, and he has something to do with it. Not alive, quite, but some bastardization of it, more spirit than not. Most of his humanity had been warped by the spirit world, or crushed beneath the unfathomable power of what had to be a tailed beast. He hadn't looked conscious in any sense of the word, a slowly forming body laid on a complex seal the likes of which couldn’t be recreated).

Zetsu hasn’t bothered to mention to any of them what he plans to do. 

If Madara were to be brought back, his purpose would expire, and that’s all the justification Zetsu would need to kill him. He thinks about the tag on his heart - the one that keeps him obedient. At any point, Madara could’ve decided he wasn’t worth the work and killed him there. 

If Zetsu intended for them to know, he would’ve told them. Ergo, Zetsu doesn’t _want_ them to know, and therefore he must know something that doesn’t directly benefit any of them. 

Had Zetsu figured out a way to revive Madara, or… 

No, no. 

Zetsu smiles up at him, sharp, needle-thin teeth gnashed together in uneven lines. 

They’re going to pay the summit a little visit soon.

Yugito follows the bloody footsteps all the way to their source.

In the distance, she can see the woven thread of Chomei’s cocoon, wrapped in a tight dome. She catches the bright color of Fu’s hair and wills herself to fun faster.

She can see her fighting someone with a monstrous mane of threads coming together to form the bodies for the elemental masks propped on them, silvery and matted. Fu is trying to slow him down with webs of glowing chakra, but he tears through him easily, leaving her little time to jump out of the way of his attacks.

Fu is nursing two gaping injuries: one torn out of her side, and another on her leg. There’s a scattering of burns on her arms and torso. 

A blade of wind comes barreling towards her from the side. Yugito superheats the air, the temperature changing so drastically that the blade denatures completely and brushes past them like a warm breeze. 

“Yugito!”

She doesn’t give the man - Akatsuki - the chance to recover. Blue fire shimmers in the air, propagating down the lengths of the threads. The lightning mask descends so quickly she almost gets whiplash. She ducks left. 

She raises a palm glowing with fire to clamp down on the threads. There’s a hissing sound like boiling water as they melt and fuse together. Lightning fizzles down her hand and she pulls away before a white hot bolt of lightning splits the sky in two. She tastes ozone on the back of her teeth. 

Fu drives a kunai deep into the cracks in the charred fire mask. It splits and disintegrates.

Right. Get rid of all the masks.

Another exhalation of fire. Fire lashes down the length of her arm and engulfs the mask. 

The glittering scales technique momentarily blinds him long enough that she can cauterize the thrashing threads so they don’t have the chance to repair themselves.

Another comes rocketing towards her chest. She angles herself left, but not before it nearly punches a hole in her shoulder. She hisses and wraps a hand around the stinging pain while warm blood seeps through her fingers.

An arc of fire keeps them separated. 

“Fu!” She yells. “I’m gonna transform!”

She feels the hole in her shoulder forcefully burn shut as Matatabi’s chakra heals her.

The water mask erupts into blue flames while Fu takes on the last one.

She dives past, towards the man. Fire hovers on upturned palms. 

The fight blurs, like it so often does when she does this. Matatabi guides her movements, and she barely registers the hit to her shoulder, or the blade of wind that nearly bisects Fu behind her.

Her vision swirls with blue flames, and then she stops, breathing hard, surrounded by fire.

“Yugito?”

She heaves a breath, and steps away from the charred body, more ash than not.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” Her breath fogs up in the air. “What’s in the cocoon?”

“The other one. I don’t think he can die.”

She sighs. Of course. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

Naruto isn’t sure where the cave stops being a cave.

The surety of crunching stone and packed earth beneath him gives way to a swirling sort of darkness, the movement of which like the lazy billowing of steam. He catches open clouds on his palms while stars squeeze between his fingers.

“Don’t get distracted.” Kurama warns.

He turns away, and starts down the long corridor of brassy pipes and tepid water. He turns down an unfamiliar path, until the ground turns to wet cement. Water and blood. 

“Is that… me?”

A dome of ice mirrors, and he’s sprawled on the ground. Sasuke stands over them, a needle clean through his heart. He feels his own stomach drop looking at it, the memory mixing with present, he feels fear strangle the air out of his lungs, and his throat tightens, and Sasuke falls-

He blinks away the memory with heat behind his eyes. “What _is_ this?”

“Your memories.” Kurama replies. His tails lash furiously. “Hurry up. Stay here too long and you’ll never get back.”

Naruto wades through knee-high water, a woven basket on his hip. Cattails surround them on all sides. Tubers and reeds sit high in the water, while tall sawgrass sways in the wind. He’s forgotten what they’re supposed to be doing. He brushes aside the grass, waiting to pounce on a diligently-working Sasuke.

He turns just in time for Naruto to kick water at him. The memory seems to blur at his wide eyed face, which quickly morphs into indignant anger. He brushes a hand against his jaw. His cheeks hurt from smiling. 

Wet dirt turns to fine sand. The white foam of lapping waves pulls around his calves. Through the crags of rock behind them, a pale pink lizard pokes its head out, greeted by the light of the moon. Incandescent frills flare. His open jacket billows in the wind. Sasuke is crouched in the sand a few feet back, legs hugged to his chest, chin on his knees. He stays like that for a moment, before his palm hits the sand and he’s getting up.

“Wait!” Naruto yells, and reaches out to stop him-

They’re in the Forest of Death. A dart frog ventures closer to his blood-smeared hand. His vision swims. Somewhere in the distance, Sakura screams. He blacks out. 

A waterfall pounds in the distance. Waves roll under his feet. Sasuke’s curse mark mutates and digs its claws into his shoulder. Why, he wants to demand, and his chest aches, and the words stay locked behind his teeth. Chidori sounds, the chirping of birds reverberating through the basin. Naruto meets him halfway with Rasengan, and knows he’s already lost.

“What is this?” He croaks. “How can this be-?”

“Another life.” Kurama says. “This one has been intertwined with ours.”

He stands at the end of a dark tunnel.

_“Move.”_ Kurama commands. 

He shakes his head mutely.

“You _must.”_

He walks anyways, into the blinding sunlight, Sakura at his side. Sasuke waits, staring down impassively. He wants to reach out and drag him back and he _can’t-_

He wanders the ruins of a battlefield. Scattered rock and carved symbols and _Itachi is dead, Sasuke killed him-_

Pein decimates the city. Naruto can do nothing to stop him. 

He falls on his knees in the snow, head bowed to the Raikage, _please, please don’t hurt him-_

He settles back into his skin and feels _wrong._ With the memories comes the knowledge with them; of Kurama and his training, of the Uchiha clan, of the Akatsuki. He steps over the charred battlefield remains of a barren wasteland. The silence is eerie. The sky is blotted out by clouds, but the moon is bright, doused in the blood of the infinite Tsukuyomi. Glittering swords and kunai stick out of the blood soaked earth. 

He finds the three of them eventually; Sasuke, barely conscious, bleeding out. Sakura, her face turned into the dirt, her hair smeared with red. And then…

“We died.” He says. The words taste like ash. Kurama is silent. This memory isn’t like the rest. He can’t feel anything.

Sasuke doubles over, coughing up blood.

“You have to go.” Kurama growls. “Too far and you won’t be able to get back, brat.”

Naruto inhales ash. He turns around, step by step, until the edge of the battlefield morphs into darkness. It ripples like water beneath his feet. “Where am I?”

“You’ve been here before.”

“Naruto.”

The second voice startles him. He turns and sees himself, older, standing before Hagoromo. The vision dissolves beneath his fingers.

_“Naruto.”_

He jumps.

“Ah, there you are.” Hagoromo says. Naruto blinks, and edges back. “It’s difficult not to get lost in the tides of times past. I drifted for a very long while, before I came back to myself.”

“You're - you’re _real.”_

“Why, of course. How do you think you came to possess that seal on your hand?”

He looks down at his palm, and grimaces. “Yeah, uh, sorry. I just - Kurama said that you could help me.”

“I can.” He agrees.

Naruto shifts his weight. “I’ve - gotten back the memories, I guess. Most of them.” It’s disconcerting. Sensations war with each other, a feeling like bugs crawling over his skin. He’s thirteen and chasing after Sasuke as he flees the village, he’s thirteen and kneeling in the street with Ino and Sakura. “It’s, uh.”

“Uncomfortable? Fear not, the physical world tends to be less… visceral, for lack of a better word, considering we have no physical bodies here.”

That’s… good. He’d been worried he was going to live out the rest of his days with one foot in the real world and the other lost in the swirling whirlpool of distant recollection. 

The Akatsuki are out there, and already so many things have changed. Something deep in his chest aches. The world here is never ending, like the sky. He could walk and walk forever and he’d never find his way back. There’s something at the edge of his consciousness, a procession of dark, thundering storm clouds. Lightning caught behind his teeth. 

“This must all be very overwhelming.” He acknowledges. “I apologize that this responsibility has fallen on your shoulders. The mistake lied in when I afforded you this power. At the end, you two were the only viable candidates for my power in the world. You both have always been an inevitability. But neither of you had any time to acclimate - that is why Sasuke tore a rift through the world when he used the Rinnegan. That is why we are both here as we are.”

“He-”

“Yes. And it is up to the both of you to fix it.”

_“Fix_ it? But I can’t - this is-”

Insane? Overwhelming? Both? Naruto doesn’t know. He might as well be arguing with himself.

“You can. You have to. I gave up the ability to interact with your world long ago, after the Jubi had taken from me most of my humanity. It was only once the Jubi was summoned and the divide became so thin that I could reach you of my own accord. Only you two have the ability to do this - I gave you the power I cultivated over centuries for this purpose so that you might succeed where I failed. Both you and Sasuke are needed to seal Madara away.”

“I don’t even know where Sasuke _is.”_

_Or if he wants my help. Or if he wants to come back at all._

His toes curl, and hot, thick shame wells up in his throat. Some of the things he had said-

His guilt manifests in the monster from the Waterfall of Truth.

“Why did I say that?” He asks, his eyes turned to the hollow eyes of his copy. “Why did I-?”

“Confronting your emotions would’ve meant acknowledging them.” Hagoromo replies, even and remorseful. “What the villages have become is disgraceful.”

Choking back your emotions is what Shinobi _do._ That’s what he’s been told since he was five.

(But he remembers staring down Haku, while Sakura sobbed in the distance, his own face hot and his throat tight, and thinking _this is wrong)._

“There is little time. The bones of a great, ancient evil stir. I will warn you now; dimension travel is a terribly imprecise thing, and time flows more than one way. Your abilities will return to you, but I cannot say when. Sasuke should be able to address this. And, above all else, be cautious of Zetsu, for he is an evil not even I have been able to quell. There is... little I can do from this distance, but... I may be able to... intervene, somewhat. I'll see what I can do."

“Wait - you can intervene? And I have to go? But-” But he has so many more questions, and the copy is still _staring_ and-

“I’m afraid so. Any longer here, and too much of yourself will be lost. I wish you luck, Naruto.”

Kurama bares his teeth, and tears Naruto free.

He’s curled on the floor of Ryuchi cave, pointed stones digging into his side. He shivers, struggling to catch his breath and settle the pace of his heart. He can barely move, and his brain is just starting to parse his surroundings together, but motivation burns beneath his ribs like an open flame, urging him forward with ambition he doesn’t think he’s ever felt. 

“Sasuke,” He croaks. Aoda blinks big, curious eyes. “Can you help me find him?”

Karin sits in the tall grass, the soil sinking in next to the river.

Escaping the prisons had been fairly easy after Jugo had _smashed the wall to pieces,_ which they then had to barricade again because the last thing they needed was more test subjects roaming the countryside. 

“Kabuto will come back.” Kimimaro says, his voice perfectly even despite the slight rasp from his last coughing fit. He had medicine, but not enough to last him long. “He plans to use the prisons as test subjects for Edo Tensei. Or Orochimaru did, anyway.”

Karin thinks it strange that he stayed knowing that Orochimaru planned to sacrifice them by the dozens, but she doesn’t say anything. 

“What are we supposed to do about it?” Suigetsu chews on a stalk of wheat. She slaps it out of his mouth. “I thought you would’ve loved to take some revenge on him, considering he was in charge of you.”

“He was?” He asks. And then: “I don’t even have my sword.”

“Stop whining.”

“You plan to do something?” Kimimaro raises a delicate eyebrow.

“Do you _want_ Kabuto to raise an undead army? Nothing good can come from that.”

“I suppose not.” He replies, plucking grass from the earth. Jugo sits some distance away, covered in birds. He hasn’t talked since the incident. She thinks he feels guilty.

“What even can we do?” Suigetsu asks.

Well, that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? The clans are at war again because Orochimaru’s death left a power vacuum that Kabuto neglected to fill, the prisons are sealed up, there’s no trade so the economy is stagnating. 

She pauses. “Kimimaro, you’re part of the Otsutsuki clan, aren’t you?”

“Yes?”

“Okay then.” She stands up, brushing herself off. “I think I might have a plan.”

Nausea churns in his gut. Feverish heat pounds beneath his skin. He stares with bleary eyes up at the healer staring down at him. He bats her hand away and forces himself to sit up. He’s hyper aware of the scratchy wool blankets on his skin. Something moves in his periphery and it takes him a minute to realize the Rinnegan is still activated. 

It’s visible even in its dormant state, but fully awake, he can see the furrows in reality where this world met the next. There are natural hubs where the veil between them is thinner, but this place especially so. It’s an inconvenience, if nothing else. 

He can’t turn it off. 

He looks at the seal on his hand, at the smeared ink. Damaged seals can be incredibly dangerous, especially when dealing with something so capricious as chakra.

He stumbles up and away from the cot even as words of protest are hissed. He presses the heel of his palm to his left eye.

Something flashes, the haze of memory settles over him. A dark street. A hand on his shoulder. Distant screaming. 

_“Come with me.”_

His eyes burn, and he doubles over. 

A labyrinthe of halls. ANBU masks. He kicks his legs on the chair he’s been seated on as heated discussion rings around him. A hand around his throat.

Darkness. 

His fingers wind around his throat, searching for nonexistent bruises.

Oh.

He remembers, picture-perfect: Danzo.

_Oh._

He stumbles outside. A hand grapples for the back of his shirt, to drag him back into the warmth of the infirmary. His vision blurs around the edges. _“Get back here!”_

“What’s wrong with him?”

“His _eyes!”_

His knees hit the snow, and the darkness takes him.

Sasuke sits around the roaring bonfire, a heavy blanket draped over his shoulders. Kakashi is next to him. He hasn’t taken his eyes off him since the little _incident_ earlier.

He sits empty and hollow with his incomplete recollection. He remembers being in ROOT headquarters, he remembers Danzo dragging him down the street, he remembers sitting in an office while the adults (one wearing robes looking suspiciously like the ceremonial robes of the Uchiha clan). Black nothingness, which speaks to more than anything else he’d seen. 

Kakashi’s gaze is set heavily on the bonfire. There are still half-crushed marigold flowers tucked behind his ears, from where the local children were trying to make him a flower crown. Now, their hands are linked, tugging each other around the fire in a circle and chanting _white-rabbit, white-rabbit,_ to see where the smoke would go.

They had seemed so surprised when he’d lit the fire, blankly exhaling an inferno on command. Lightning natures were more common here, where lightning could cleave the sky in two. Here, legends of the _lightning cutter,_ are prominent. Fire is more common on the upper slopes, where the people aren’t sheltered by tall mountain ranges, or in Konoha, where everything burns: embers smolder even under the earth, burning through tree roots, coal veins… but here, the ability to control a storm is enticing.

Neither of them had been expecting to stumble upon the scattered remains of the Hatake clan that had left the rest of the clan after allying with Konoha. 

“We aren’t a war-mongering people.” The healer had explained, in her creaking voice. “But we are a deeply spiritual one. I understand the working of chakra.”

None of them recognize Kakashi. He had been born in Fire Country, after Sukumo had already emigrated. All of them, however, share the same white hair as Kakashi. He’s looked just a bit shell-shocked.

Sasuke can understand that, he thinks. He can understand being reunited with a people that are his but are so foreign to him they might as well speak a different language. 

Kakashi opens his mouth, presumably to ask a question. Just then, one of the children breaks the chain to skip over.

“So…” He starts. “Can we see your summons? You said you had them.”

“Hey.” The girl hisses. “You can’t just ask someone that! It’s…” She puffs her cheeks out. “Dad says they’re _sacred_ and - and it’s _personal!”_

Kakashi looks baffled. “You can see them.”

The girl blinks puzzled dark eyes at him.

Pakkun appears in a burst of smoke. “Be nice.” Kakashi instructs. The summon looks between them strangely and trots off the log to meet them. 

Summons are considered sacred here. They’d nearly lost their minds after seeing Aya. 

“So… the Rinnegan.”

He hunches farther under the blanket. “Yeah.”

“I don’t recall you having that before.”

“It’s a recent development.” He replies dryly.

Kakashi sighs. “I don’t suppose you’re planning on telling me how exactly you got it?”

He lets his silence speak for him. 

“That man - did you know him?”

“No.” _But you do._

“He seemed to know about you.”

“I have the Rinnegan. That’s where his interest lies.”

“Is there any way to get us back to Konoha?”

He shrugs. “I wouldn't know. Evidently.” He drawls. “I’m not very good at using it.”

Kakashi drags a hand across his face. “Of course. Full of secrets, aren’t we?”

“It’s a gift.”

The kids settle down. There are a few adults among the crowd, peering curiously at them, but the fire is obviously for them. While they whisper about fire-stories and storm gods, he bends beneath the wait of almost-knowledge. Vague whisperings of memories, more dangerous in implication than anything else. More things that he doesn’t have time to deal with, because the impending war takes precedence. 

He exhales, and rests his head against his knees. He needs to get back on top of the Akatsuki situation. He needs to talk to Yugito again, too. 

“I’m going to sleep.” He announces, standing up and starting back down the winding dirt path to the building his cot is set up in. He doesn’t plan to stay much longer, and Kakashi is going to drag him back to Konoha soon. The only thing that’s preventing him from doing so now is the fact that everyone thinks he’s injured.

Something emerges from behind a rock. He jerks back, readying Chidori, but-

“Kazumi?”

The snake tilts her head. “Sasuke. I understand that I have not been summoned. At the behest of my father, I have brought someone to you that he believes will be beneficial to your ambitions.”

He glances behind her, and then someone comes crashing out of the path and that _can’t be-_

“Your hair got long.” Naruto says.

Sasuke gapes.

Then there’s a pair of arms around his waist and dandelion-blonde hair tickling his nose as the both of them are knocked to the ground. 

“You - how are you - you _remember-?”_

“Of _course_ I fucking do.” He says, his voice muffled into his shoulder. “You thought I’d forget?”

_This can't be real._

They lay there for a minute, Naruto’s arms wrapped around him and the warm weight of his head on his shoulder, while he tries to process. “But you-”

“Died? Yeah. We fucked up, didn’t we?”

“Yeah.” He struggles for air. “We did.”

“I jumped through a crack in the universe, you know. Talked to Hagoromo. Walked all the way through a scary snake cave just to find you. You better be grateful.”

“You’re insane.”

Naruto leans back to stare him in the eye, that stupid smile on his face. “I missed you too, bastard.”

Naruto is _here._ And it’s _impossible._ Not after… not after everything. But Naruto is here and he’s _alive,_ and the traitorous part of him that’s relieved, the dull realization that he was the only one who did know or ever would know, slowly crushing, is assuaged. 

“We’re doing this _together_ this time.”

His chest feels tight.

The sound of approaching footsteps. Kakashi. Neither of them move

_“Naruto?_ How are you-? What are you doing here?"

Naruto picks his head up, and bursts into laughter. This is absurd, and ridiculous. He chokes on a laugh. 

"He told me to fix it." Naruto says into his shoulder. "This is just - a second chance. We're going to fix it."

He shouldn't be allowing this - he has _things_ to account for now, he has to move, but -

His heart catches in his throat. 

He slowly reaches up, with hesitant hands, to return the gesture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is this monstrosity of a chapter! So you might've seen the chapter count. It might be subject to chance because sometimes a scene that's supposed to be 500 words somehow ends up being 2k and now you have to rework your chapter plan, not that I would know. But I estimate that it'll be somewhere in that ballpark.
> 
> -The bois are back together!!! It took them 100k words but they're together again! Sasuke is just... very relieved that someone remembers  
> -Sasuke experiences one (1) emotion   
> -He remembers some things. A little bit  
> -Conspicuous lack of Itachi, don't worry he's coming back  
> -Zetsu continues to be a terrible bastard man  
> -Nowhere does it say the Hatake clan is dead or anything so I can do this  
> -Basically what happened was that Konoha started colonizing into the North, which Kumo *really* didn't like, and it's what started the bad blood between them. Most of them allied themselves with Konoha but the ones who didn't want to broke off and ended up in the lower mountain ranges.  
> -I feel like there should've been more espionage. Like isn't that kinda your thing, as ninjas??  
> -Konoha's not gonna be too happy that they lost Sasuke, Itachi *and* Naruto  
> -Tsunade and Shisui are so passive agressive  
> -Team taka is back to wreak havoc and overthrow the government, good for them


	20. Binary Stars

The village is quiet in the morning.

Kakashi watches the children carry sloshing pails of water from the river to boil, probably intent on acquiring Sasuke’s help for that, with a sort of detached curiosity. It’s hard to conceptualize any of them as relatives, or something more intimate. He hasn’t had a family since Team 7 (in either of it’s iterations, he supposes), and the idea of existing within any other unit is somewhat disconcerting for reasons he can’t place. 

Sasuke is still holed up in the infirmary. The healer had declared he had some kind of chakra-sickness, and he’s currently being treated there, whatever entails. He had looked upset. Then again, he _always_ looks upset. He carries his tension in the stiff lines of his shoulders, wound up like coiled wire, ready to snap. There’s a certain haunted darkness in his eyes that Kakashi recognizes. In the still moments, that’s when you look; Sasuke watches the skyline and doesn’t make eye contact. The suggestion of irritation passing over his face like a shadow, replaced by a carefully controlled mask. The approaching storm clouds of apprehension, mistrust, the crackling ozone of tempestuous anger. 

Sasuke is a lightning-nature in every sense of being. Kakashi would know. Where he’d suppressed his anger until it was nothing but coals, Sasuke had embraced his to the fullest. 

Beside him on the log, Naruto sits. He’s been bundled up in heavy wool clothes, trying to rub warmth back into his frostbitten fingers. It’s too early for a fire, but the smoldering coals could probably be coaxed to life.

Kakashi isn’t quite sure what to make of Naruto’s appearance. He understands the how well enough (even if he doesn’t understand why the snakes let him through Ryuchi cave and guided him to Sasuke, and Naruto doesn’t seem too keen on explaining), but he doesn’t know why. 

Clearly they _know_ each other, though Kakashi has no idea how, and he’s not sure how he could’ve missed something like that. He hadn't been gone for that long, had he? Sakura had never mentioned him, not during any of the times she visited, and while that didn’t necessarily imply anything, it was strange. 

“Naruto.” He says.

He turns around and beams, all too enthusiastic. Definitely Minato’s son.

(Kakashi doesn’t want to think about Minato, because when he does he thinks about Obito, too. Because Minato had authorized that disastrous mission, and maybe if he had been there Obito wouldn’t be dead. Maybe Rin wouldn’t be, either).

“So, how do you know Sasuke?”

“Um.” He flounders. “Y’know. Ino works at the hospital a lot and I was there for her and I met him there.”

It’s clearly a lie, and not a very good one. This is why Naruto isn’t allowed on subterfuge missions. But he has that stupid determined look on his face, his smile closed off, and Kakashi knows pushing won’t yield any answers. So he has to settle.

“As soon as Sasuke recovers, we’re going back to the village.”

“What?” Naruto whirls around. “I don’t think Sasuke’s gonna cooperate with that.”

He runs a hand over his face. “Sasuke doesn’t seem like the type to cooperate with anything.”

Naruto nearly chokes on his own spit. “Uh, yeah. But he… doesn’t like Konoha much.”

Which would explain why he was trying to leave. Konoha has almost certainly branded him as a missing-nin by this point. Itachi is going to kill him.

“I made a promise to his brother.”

“... his brother.” Naruto repeats thoughtfully. 

They both look up as a ball flies towards them. Kakashi catches it in one hand. Two kids wave their hands.

“Hey, they look like you!” Naruto remarks, and then, “C’mon, throw the ball back!”

Kakashi does, very cautious as to how much force he’s putting behind it, because the last thing he wants to do is accidentally knock either of them over. 

“It’s kinda cool that you have a clan.”

Kakashi shrugs. “I never knew them.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get to know them.” Naruto points out. “Eiko - she's this fuinjutsu master from Uzushio - she's been teaching me a lot about Uzushio, and I’ve never been there, but it’s cool to know about where my Mom came from and all that.”

Kakashi freezes up. “You… know about that.”

“Yeah. It’s okay! I’m not mad. I know you were supposed to keep it a secret.” He trails off with a frown, and shakes his head. “I’m gonna go see if Sasuke’s awake.”

He stands up, and jogs to the infirmary.

Kakashi sighs.

“We need to talk.” 

“No.” Sasuke says through grit teeth. “We don’t.”

He shoves his way past, and Naruto grabs for his shoulder. Last night had been almost idyllic compared to this. Asshole-Sasuke is back, perfectly content to let their problems dig a chasm between them once more. 

The brief conversation they’d had last night was, on Sasuke’s part, a perfunctory rehashing of everything that had happened since he’d woken up here. Naruto, on the other hand, had been nearly ecstatic, describing what was different and how strange talking to the Sage had been, but that strange, almost comforting atmosphere of last night, is all but gone. 

“You can’t just ignore this!”

“Watch me.” He hisses, and twists himself out of his grip. 

Naruto tears his hands through his hair. _“Sasuke.”_

“Fuck off.” He says, but there’s less heat behind it. He settles on the wooden floor with his legs crossed. He has to practice using the Rinnegan and fix the hole he tore. 

“Seriously though, you can’t expect me to just-”

His eyes open, and his right eye glows red with the Mangekyo. “Shut up or leave. I’m trying to concentrate.”

 _“Fuck,_ sorry, sorry, jeez. You’re so touchy.”

He sees him tense up just a little bit. Nice to know that he still manages to get under his skin.

Silence settles over them, and he feels the tug of the Rinnegan. He itches to do something, to move. Kurama’s unadulterated power isn’t meant to be kept in this body. The seal must’ve been broken sometime when he entered the spirit world - apparently they weren’t meant to sustain that level of ambient atmospheric chakra.

The discomfort becomes a moving, fanged thing. It looks too much like hollowed-out eyes, staring him down from within the confines of his mind, the nagging fear that maybe he is the monster that everyone thinks he is, _destroy everything, destroy it all, Naruto. What have they ever done for you?_

His toes curl. If his shifting bothers Sasuke, he doesn’t mention it. 

_Confronting your emotions means you have to acknowledge them._ Well, acknowledging them was the first step it took to fixing it, right? That sounds like something Sakura would say.

(The memories blur together, the Sakura that could heal as easily as she hurt, breaking bones like butter, but so quick to repair. He misses her, he aches thinking about her, but he still has Sakura, just… a little different. She’s still his Sakura).

He opens his mouth. Closes it. He frowns, and rolls formless words over on his tongue. This is worse than pulling teeth. 

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out.

Sasuke startles. 

“I - I’m sorry about. Everything. I was thirteen and I was stupid-”

“Stop.”

“No, no, let me do this, you asshole. I was thirteen and we were both dumb as fucking bricks and I didn’t get it and I didn’t ask because we were thirteen and I didn’t understand what losing a family was like because I didn’t have one, and then I lost you and I _understood._ And I’m sorry that - that I believed the village over you, and I said - I said something bad. You weren’t there and I… I don’t know. I should’ve been angry. That the village did that to your clan. That’s not - that’s not okay. And I shouldn’t have said something that made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal.” He makes a frustrated noise. “And I just - I’m not gonna drag you back. I get it.” He shifts. “The village hid that I was a jinchuuriki and they hid my parents from me and they kicked me around like trash and that.” He takes a shuddering breath. “That wasn’t okay, either. And I’m. Trying.”

Sasuke stares at him. For a jarring moment Naruto is expecting seventeen year old Sasuke, all rigid lines and so, so much grief it shouldn’t be possible to hold in one person. Big, dark eyes stare back at him.

The silence drones on.

“... I’m sorry for stabbing you.”

Naruto bursts into laughter. Sasuke bristles. _“Stop laughing.”_

He doubles forward, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. “God, I missed you."

Sasuke grumbles, but doesn’t try to kick him out. Naruto will count it as a win.

The healer seems obsessed with finding the source of his _‘spiritual impurity’._

Sasuke has no idea what that means and has no intention to learn. 

She sits cross-legged in front of him.

She explains that chakra has two components: spiritual and physical. And there’s, apparently, something wrong with the former (and with the latter, too, but she describes those as ‘brief snags’, which ultimately are meaningless). 

“It’s reactive to emotion.” She explains. “And yours is all tied up in knots.”

Sasuke sometimes thinks that he actually died with everyone else, in Madara’s war. That he’s not real after all, that someone’s going to reach for him and their hand is going to go right through. But if he really were dead then this must be some kind of purgatory, the culmination of his mistakes. He has to deal with the fallout of the Rinnegan, the consequence of merging two worlds into one. 

(Maybe this is his personal hell, after all).

He reaches out with the Rinnegan again. The spirit world is a long smear just on the horizon, but when he tries to interact with it, his chakra starts to tangle up again. He pulls back with grit teeth. 

Asa shakes her head, and he leans back on his hands, sucking air through his teeth.

“Dojutsu is deeply connected to your emotions.” She declares. “Your chakra ties itself in knots whenever you try to use it. Why do you think that is? Your apprehension is understandable, but when you’re afraid of heights, you learn to climb. When you’re afraid to drown, you learn to swim. You have an ocean to cross.”

Sasuke wishes the Hatake clan wasn’t made up of sensors. His chakra is the only thing he can’t hide. 

He clenches his jaw. “I’m not _afraid.”_

He digs crescent shaped cuts into his palms. 

“Unless you get your problem in order, you’ll never be able to control it. The Rinnegan takes more precision than any other existing dojutsu.” She replies pointedly. “What you are afraid of is not my place to settle. You are the only one who decides that.”

He’s surprised that they know anything about the Rinnegan at all. Apparently their legends pass down its existence; a gift from the spirit world, intended to guide the world into a new era of light. 

Asa sighs. “Take a break.”

She, at least, understands the importance of obtaining mastery over it. Kakashi wants to leave soon, but Sasuke isn’t going back. 

He stands up and leaves through the back door onto the porch, watching gray morning light filter through the clouds. One of the things he can appreciate about the mountains is their quiet tranquility, much easier to manage than the loud, bustling streets of Konoha, or the suffocating, overbearing silence of the compound.

He’s been up for hours, and still he’s made little progress. Forcing it to work does more bad than good. He supposes extreme duress is motivation enough to coax it to life, but that was to invoke its wrath. That’s when he ends up stranded five years in the past.

Between the mountain peaks, he sees Sukai descend.

He holds out an arm, and she lands. She tilts her head at him. _“What’s got you all ruffled?”_

“Nothing.” He snaps. He spots her talons, spotted with blood. “Did you attack another messenger hawk?”

 _“I intercepted it.”_ She corrects. _“Your animals are extremely stupid. I took the scroll it was carrying and gave it back after. No big deal.”_

He chooses not to pursue the issue further. “... hmm. And?”

 _“There’s a summit coming up.”_

He sighs and fights the pressure behind his eyes. “A five Kage Summit?”

That means they can count on interference from the Akatsuki.

“How long do we have?”

 _“Five days.”_

He needs to find Naruto.

The summit is in Kumo. They’re close enough that they’ll be able to make it if they leave soon.

He’ll wager a guess that the topic they’re going to be discussing relates directly back to the Akatsuki. Based on how the last Summit went, he seriously doubts that they don’t already know and, furthermore, aren’t planning on dropping in for a visit.

He ambushes Naruto near the campfire. Asa is probably trying to divert Kakashi again by insisting he take part in another ‘highly important sacrament’ to buy them more time. 

“Kakashi isn’t gonna let us go.” Naruto says. 

“Then we go without him.” He replies. Naruto winces. “He can go back to Konoha.”

“I can try to convince him.” Naruto offers. More quietly, “You never plan on going back, do you?”

“I already told you that I wasn’t. You know that.”

He nods quickly. “I know! I do. I meant what I said too. I don’t want to drag you back there if you don’t want to. But - your family-”

“They’re not my family.”

Naruto bristles. “What are you _talking_ about? Of course they are. If that’s what you think, then Sakura and Ino aren’t my teammates.”

He turns, already running strategy through his head. What does he plan to do when he gets to the summit? He has to account for the Akatsuki members that will be there. Obito is most likely, since he’s their main form of transport, now. He was paired with Kisame last time, so that might mean he’s accompanying him. “That’s different.”

“No, it _isn’t._ I have - two sets of memories right now, and it’s really weird, but I’m still- I’m both. We _are_ from here.”

Hands around his throat. An arm full of hemorrhaging Sharingan eyes. The cold slithering of terror down his spine and unblinking ANBU masks staring down at him. He resolutely banishes those memories because it’s not the same, no matter what Naruto says.

The silence persists long enough that Naruto concedes. 

“It isn’t relevant.” Sasuke says pointedly. “We should be focusing on the summit.”

Naruto mumbles something under his breath. “I’ll go talk to Kakashi and let you brood in peace.”

He settles back, closing his eyes and exhaling, long and heavy. 

_“You know,”_ Aya appears on his shoulder, her weight not quite enough to destabilize him. _“You’re not very good at talking. Moya says you humans are really good with ‘interpersonal relationships’. I think I’d make a better human than you.”_

“What do you want now?”

 _“Your brother is here.”_

He startles hard enough to knock Aya from her perch.

Obito watches dispassionately as Kabuto finalizes something on his seal. 

The cave that he’s chosen to complete this endeavor in, for whatever reason he’d thought a cave appropriate for the purposes of research, is covered in scattered reports filled with half-manic scribbling. Some of it is legible. In other places, sentences dwindle to nothing without ever reaching a point. Writing overlaps in dark sweeps of ink bleeding into each other, incomprehensible jargon. The more important ideas are boxed in or underlined.

The ground is sticky with blood, but there’s no other evidence of the jutsu.

Kabuto doesn’t bother to even look at him, content to stay crouched on the bloody floor.

“Are you almost done?” Obito asks. “Zetsu is… particularly insistent that you’re finished by the end of the day.”

The mere mention of Zetsu leaves the room just a degree colder.

“The experimental ones in Matsuyama are doing well.” He muses. “It’s almost done.”

Obito lets the silence drag on for a moment longer than is comfortable. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” 

Kamui seizes, and the world melts away.

Zetsu is going to try and kill him. It’s a theory Obito has been tossing around in his head for a while. At first it was because of Zetsu’s strange obsession with him, but with his sudden change in mannerism and behavior was… unsettling, to say the least. He can feel the intent there, creeping at the edge of his consciousness. 

The question is _why,_ though. 

Clearly he’s in the way of something. Zetsu’s motivations don’t have to be strictly logical, but they must follow some bizarre sense of logic or else he would’ve done something sooner.

Zetsu knows how to revive Madara, and that would make him… dispensable. 

He has a few more theories to entertain. 

He follows Aya’s directions out of the village, rushing down steep mountain paths and sliding down tumbling footpaths of churned mud from the latest storm. He stumbles onto the road with far less grace than he would’ve liked. Aya is gone, which means-

 _“Sasuke!”_

His heart leaps into his throat when Itachi leaps from the trees. He feels like he’s falling, deep in his chest, and he must really be losing it if he can’t pin down the rising hysteria, crashing over him like a tidal wave and leaving his shaking. He stumbles over his own tongue trying to form words that won’t come, stuck to the roof of his mouth and crowded behind his teeth. 

“You-”

Itachi closes the space between them and throws his arms around him, and it takes a moment to register that he isn’t _angry,_ and in the brief moment after he catches up, he raises hesitant arms to reciprocate the gesture. He feels the way the breath shudders out of him, his head pushed to his chest.

“You’re okay.” His voice is faint. Sasuke just… waits. “You can’t do that to me. _Please_ don’t do that to me again.”

“You weren’t supposed to come after me.” He says, and realizes. He pulls himself back. “You’re a missing-nin.”

The realization hits him like a freight train. He feels vaguely off balance.

Itachi is a missing-nin. _Again._ And this time it’s because of _him._

Something cold sinks in his gut. “You left the village.”

Itachi’s brow furrows. “Of course I did.”

But Itachi is _loyal_ to the village. The dissonance rings in his mind like a clap of thunder. 

Anger surges to take its place. _“Why_ would you-?”

“Sasuke? What’s-”

They both turn to see Naruto stumbling off the same ledge he did, Kakashi on his heels. Both of them freeze once they see Itachi. 

“Itachi?” Kakashi sounds vaguely distressed. “I’m hoping you didn’t leave the village and become a missing nin.”

Instead of answering, he just bows his head. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

Kakashi sighs like he’s carrying the weight of the world. “Let’s go back and talk about this. _And_ we’re talking about the summit more.” He pins both Sasuke and Naruto in his gaze.

They start walking.

“Why did you think I wouldn’t come after you?” Itachi’s voice is almost painfully soft. Sasuke focuses on the ceramic mug of steaming tea in his hands, too hot to drink; the pads of his fingertips burn. 

“You shouldn’t have. They’re not going to let you back.”

Itachi takes a moment to answer. “For a long time, I used missions as an excuse to find you. I didn’t take all those missions to benefit Konoha, Sasuke. You’ve always been a priority.”

He doesn’t look up. The anger coiled tightly in his chest is rearing its head again. “You can’t go back.” He repeats. His voice wavers over the dangerous, crackling flames of fury. “You left behind-” Everything. He left behind Konoha.

There’s something like pity, or concern, softening his face. Sasuke _hates_ it. 

"How did you find me?"

"Your snakes."

Sasuke sinks lower into his chair and resists the urge to cover his face. 

Kakashi and Naruto reenter the room, and take seats at the opposite side of the table.

“So,” He drawls. “Naruto says you want to head to the summit.”

“The Akatsuki will be there.”

“How do you know?”

 _Because I was there._

“My hawks.”

Kakashi sighs. “And you think engaging them is a good idea… because? The Five Kages will be there.”

And if it goes anything like last time, it won’t make a difference against Obito. 

“War is going to break out.” He says. This is the second time in as many days as he’s had to explain the same situation, and retreading the same path over and over gets tedious. “That’s what the meeting is about. I have information about the Akatsuki that they’ll need to consider.”

Kakashi’s eyes are sharp. “How did you come across this information?”

Naruto’s gaze flicks to his, and then back down to the table. “You don’t have to come.” He says, flat. “You can go back to Konoha. I’m going to the summit.”

Itachi snorts into his cup.

Kakashi runs a hand over his face. “I suppose I’d be a very a poor excuse for a sensei if I let my student go without help.”

Sasuke relaxes, and Naruto pumps a fist in the air before leaning over and attaching himself to Kakashi like an octopus, much to Kakashi’s displeasure. 

“We have to leave tomorrow.” He says. Naruto already knows, so he doesn’t detach himself. Itachi nods thoughtfully.

“Then I suppose we should all prepare ourselves.”

The Mita Clan’s war room can only be accessed by travelling through a series of cramped stone tunnels that remind Karin of Orochimaru’s prison. The only light is afforded by barely-lit kerosene lamps hammered into the walls. 

“Why are we doing this again?” Suigetsu asks. 

“If we plan to do anything about Kabuto, we’re gonna need backup.” She replies, and hikes up the steep incline. 

“Why do you think they’ll be inclined to help?” Kimimaro asks. His voice is usually pitched soft, barely above a whisper, but it echoes between the stone walls, granting him a greater sense of volume and confidence. 

“They have a bunch of sacred rights I can use.” She replies. Suigetsu raises an unimpressed eyebrow. Neither Kimimaro nor Jugo comment. “I was being trained to lead, you know that, right? Unlike the rest of you, I wasn’t intended to be an experiment, or a pawn to possess.”

Kimimaro bristles, but his irritation is quickly smoothed away. She wonders what it would take to make him angry.

“I know all about the clans. Orochimaru wanted someone with leadership capabilities - Kabuto was too unhinged, none of the purple-ropes were independent enough, and I had a useful ability.”

They reach the end of the hallway. A Mita guard looks at them through narrowed eyes.

“No one outside the clan can enter.” He barks.

“Unless they invoke the right to wartime counsel. We request an audience with your clan head.”

He stiffens. “This isn’t a time of war.”

“Oh? Then what do you call what’s going on right now? And even if that was what I meant, I’m here to deliver a declaration. Kabuto is fucking around with Edo Tensei. He’s gonna raise an army of the dead to fight on behalf of the Akatsuki, and anyone who isn’t an ally is an enemy. Now - if we can have that audience?”

Mutely, he steps aside. 

Suigetsu blinks. “Huh. We didn’t even have to kill him.”

Karin retrieves a dagger from her bag. “The wonders of diplomacy.”

The clan head of the Mita is a dark haired man who watches them with dark eyes. The left side of his face is mangled by raised scar tissue. It isn’t faded enough to look old, but not raw enough to look new. It wouldn’t surprise Karin if it _was_ new. Otogakure has reverted to the chaos it was before Orochimaru decided to interfere. 

“You’re well acquainted with our customs.” He remarks. Karin settles down onto the carpet just across from him. Hesitantly, the rest of them follow. “I wasn’t aware they were taught anymore.”

Karin sets the dagger, sheathed in leather, on the floor. “For you accommodation.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re Orochimaru’s pupil, weren’t you?”

“Is _that_ why you made us steal that dagger?” Suigetsu hisses. He’s promptly ignored. 

“I was trained under him.” She agrees. “I’m not sure I would consider myself a pupil, but it was his intention to assign me a role of leadership, so I needed to know how to interact with the clans.” She straightens. “You’ve heard what’s going on with Kabuto, I gather.”

“I’ve seen the prisons sealed, and understand that he’s been missing for weeks, now. I assume he was meant to take on the mantle after Orochimaru died?”

She shakes her head. “Orochimaru never intended to die. Kabuto was a pawn who happened to be loyal and talented enough to be of use to him. Kabuto was considered part of the medical division. But he does plan on using Edo Tensei to revive the dead.”

“That jutsu is forbidden.” He frowns. “Where did he learn of it?”

“It doesn’t matter, but I saw him working on it, and… it’s not pretty.”

Really not pretty. Words cannot _describe_ how _not pretty_ the development of Edo Tensei was. It was no wonder that Kabuto’s got a few screws loose. 

“And you plan on hunting him down yourselves?”

She shrugs. “We came here asking for aid. Kimimaro is the last living member of the Otsutsuki clan.”

He stiffens. 

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Suigetsu interjects. Karin glowers at him. “Well, you would know if you’d _listened_ to me while I was explaining it, but _no,_ you were complaining about your stupid sword-”

“You two.” Kimimaro says quietly. Karin huffs. 

“Our clans used to be allied.” He says, getting over his shock easily. “If it’s aid you’re looking for, we’re willing to comply.”

“I didn’t think it would be that easy.” Jugo says, his voice nearly a whisper. 

Karin grins triumphantly. “Alright, boys. Now, we plan.” 

Shisui stands with his back nearly to the wall. The Five Kage are seated at the table, each placed at an appropriate distance from each other. Across from him, the shapeless masks of Kirigakure stare back at him, perched just behind the Mizukage. The visible guards are a nicety; platitude obliges him to ignore the Shinobi hidden in the upper rafters.

A seal winds around his wrist, securing his loyalty. Nothing leaves this room without their orders. 

“Tsunade.” The Tsuchikage smiles, all teeth. “You finally showed up. We were beginning to suspect you weren’t coming.” The implications of those words dug deeper furrows, burrowing under the skin. Tsunade doesn’t seem particularly perturbed. 

“We will show our fellow Kage _respect.”_ The Mizukage chides. “This is a meeting of peace.”

“We’ve burned through two Kage within a matter of months.” Onoki replies gruffly. “There’s noting _peaceful_ about it.”

The Mizukage turns to survey the sparse amount of guards that Tsunade thought fit to bring. “You’ve brought so few Shinobi with you.”

“Are you so convinced of your own strength?” The Raikage raises an eyebrow, but he means it as less of an insult - strength is integral to Kumo, acknowledging it is more of a sign of grudging respect than anything else. Tsunade holds his gaze. 

“Ah!” The Mizukage claps her hands together. Her fingernails are filed to long, sharp points. “I see! You’ve brought Shisui with you! A pleasure to see you again, dear.”

Shisui bows his head. He remembers his time spent in Kirigakure very well. Too well, in fact. He’d been fourteen in the aftermath of the Third Shinobi war, and as per the rulings of the peace treaty, his ANBU team had been assigned to take on an overseas mission that, on paper, had detailed a matter of ecological conservation. Surface level, it could’ve been defending the sacred land of a clan, or patrolling privately owned land, or anything of the sort - but it wouldn’t require ANBU level surveillance.

No, it ended up being a two week long nightmare during which their contractor brought them to the wet, overgrown jungles in Takasaki to protect a military base from guerilla warfare employed by the revolting clans over their exploitation during the war. Two miserable weeks of wading through knee-high mud, tropical humidity, and prowling jaguars. The darkness itself had been so heavy it seemed to speak.

As long as he lives, Shisui is _never_ going back there.

“Enough of this.” The Raikage waves his hand. It’s as big as his head. “Where is the Kazekage?”

The Kazekage hasn’t arrived yet. She has the longest journey to make.

They dissolve into tense, fitful silence for another fifteen minutes. They hardly have a right to complain - the negotiations have been going on longer than the Kage Summit itself. This is one component to an even larger discussion which will be had among the daimyo, which Konoha’s council will be taking part in. Shisui lets his thoughts drift to Danzo. Earlier, he'd been collaborating with Yamato and a kid around Sasuke's age named Sai, to dig up as much dirt as they could on ROOT. If there was any Hokage that would take the steps to get rid of it, Tsunade would be the easiest to convince, seeing as Orochimaru was once part of it.

Slowly, the regal doors creak under their own weight as they open.

Temari enters the room. To her credit, she doesn’t so much as flinch under the heavy gaze of her colleagues. She’s perfectly disinterested as she strides to her chair, her guards taking their place behind her.

“Kazekage.” The Mizukage greets warmly. “Welcome.”

“We don’t have time to waste.” Onoki snaps. “On with it.”

“Tengu.” Tsunade looks over her shoulder. Shisui steps away from the wall to present her the scroll. 

The subject matter of this meeting is none other than the Akatsuki.

“... we’ve linked at least two terrorist groups to them.” Tsunade explains. “As far as we’re aware, they’ve been financially backing them to keep us off their trail. T&I couldn’t extract anything damning from their leader - Inoichi suspects that her memories had been locked in the same fashion as the woman from Keys. The paper trail speaks for itself, though. The transactions were handled through third-party contractors, but they all have one common link - a missing nin named Kakuzu.”

She shows the attached picture. “Believed to be a member of the Akatsuki, corroborated by both Itachi and Kakashi to have been wearing their cloak.”

“Itachi the missing nin?” Onoki raises an eyebrow.

“The circumstances surrounding his disappearance have no correlation with the Akatsuki. Therefore, we have no reason to believe his testimony to be untrue.” She glares at him pointedly. “Again, witnesses report seeing him in Kusagakure. One surviving member of Team Alpha claims that he wiped out the rest of her team for killing one of his employers.”

 _Alpha_ was the title for the network of spies in Kusagakure, which was a fantastic hiding place for missing nin. _Technically_ they weren’t classified as Konoha Shinobi, which was the only way they could get away with it. 

“Orochimaru has also been confirmed to be a member. They supplied his trafficking rings.”

“He wouldn’t have been a problem if you had taken care of him like you should’ve.” Onoki glares.

“Yes.” Tsunade exhales deeply. “But I’m afraid any quarrels that you had with the Fourth will need to be put to the side for now. There are rumors that ‘the Angel of Ame’ belongs to the group as well. We have no photographic evidence, but allegedly she uses paper bombs. Then there’s this.”

“Sasori.” Temari answers, looking at the picture for only a second. “That’s his craftsmanship.”

“You’re sure, girl?” 

Shisui sees the way she rouses, just across the width of her shoulders. “With all due respect, Tsuchikage, I’ve spent the better part of my life studying the jutsu and clans of my country, and have had personal experience with Chiyo. These are his puppets.”

Tsunade nods. “Kisame. Mizukage, I assume you know of this one?”

“One of the Seven Swordsmen.” She sighs. “Slaughtered his master for the blade.”

“There’s at least one more known member who we’ve yet to identify, and then… these. I’m not quite sure what to make of them.”

Grotesquely mutilated bodies. 

“What did _that?”_ The Mizukage runs a finger over the immortalized carnage. “Those are teeth marks, there. I don’t have an explanation for the rest of it, though.”

“Kisame?”

“No. Samehada doesn’t leave marks like that. Those wounds were clearly made by teeth - thin ones.” 

The conversation only devolves from there. They argue about the necessity for another treaty to become a front against them, and then they argue about the integrity of their cities, and the quality of their spies, and the numbers of their armies. Konoha can only afford so many people. They’re far from the biggest nation, but this would require another draft. 

(Then, the conversation takes a bit of a chilling twist).

There’s discussions of people being raised from the dead. 

It’s just a rumor, of course, but they speak of Edo Tensei in hushed voices.

That technique had been destroyed decades ago.

Or at least it _should’ve_ been. 

“-that pass is untraversable. You know well enough about the dangers of those mountains.”

“Then travel through the forest in Qinghai.”

“There are sacred lands in that forest.”

“Then go around them. It’s not as though you’ve never done that before.”

The hair on the back of his neck rises. His skin erupts in goosebumps.

“The Five Kages, squabbling like children. A pity to see.” The air distorts, and deposits a man in a black cloak, his arms folded over his chest, a mask covering his face, revealing only his right eye - revealing a _Sharingan._ “And to think you’ve dragged an actual child into your war.”

Tsunade’s hand tightens into a fist. “Who are you?”

Shisui grabs his sword. How did he get in here without tripping any of the seals?

“I’m here on behalf of Akatsuki.” He replies. “I’d like to pass on a message.”

The Raikage flashes with lightning, bolting up to bare his teeth. “We don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

A bolt of white lightning arcs up to his place on the ledge, only for the attack that should’ve vaporized him to go straight through.

“So testy.” He tuts. “It would do you well to keep your temper in check, Raikage.”

The Raikage bristles. “What are you?”

He tilts his head. “Such things are inconsequential.”

“You came here to pass on a message.” Tsunade says through clenched teeth. “So speak.”

He folds one leg casually over the other. “My organization has been… _persuaded_ to first seek out a more diplomatic approach. To give you an alternative to your inevitable annihilation, I suppose. None of you are likely to agree to our proposal, but I’m obligated to try regardless. You can surrender to our cause peacefully, or you can fight your impossible war.” He opens his hands. “The decision is yours.” 

“As if we’d ever bow to the likes of you.” The Tsuchikage rouses himself. “If this is your official declaration of war, then we accept.”

“As expected.” The man agrees. 

Temari stands. Her knuckles are white. “There are rumors that you plan to revive the Jubi. Is that true?”

 _“Girl.”_ Onoki hisses. 

“Clever. I’m curious what you have to say, Kazekage.” The man interrupts. 

“What will it solve?” She demands. “The only thing you’ll bring about is more violence. 

“Hmm. I’m afraid I can’t offer the most eloquent of responses, but…let me remind you, that violence is a means to an end. It is a tool to bring about the peace that you are so apt to destroy.”

 _“We_ destroy peace?” The Raikage booms. “Which between the two of us is instigating a war?”

“Between the two of us.” He seems to grin. _“We_ are the instigator? Not you, that has perpetuated a meaningless war with Konoha? Not you, who has exploited small nations for your own profit? Not you, that has locked the impoverished Land of Waves into economical dependence? Not you, surely, that used Amegakure as your battlegrounds, slaughtering enemies and citizens alike. Not you, of course, that condemns your children to death.”

Tsunade visibly stiffens. Silence echoes off the walls.

“You don’t even try to deny it.” He laughs. “This world is so fundamentally… _broken.”_

“And you think you can fix it?” Temari challenges. “That your war is _right?”_

"No war is _right_. But change has never been brought to this world without violence." The man replies. "You'll send more of your children into this war that will die in order to perpetuate a system that thrives on violence. You don’t even see the irony that it’s a child that has to defend these claims. Have you nothing to say for yourselves?”

“You won’t be allowed to tear about the world for your ideals.” The Mizukage settles on eventually. 

The man shrugs, unbothered. “I told them you were too far gone. Lost within your own delusions. As unfortunate as it is, it seems there’s no convincing you. If you’re made up to die over your convictions, then so be it.” He turns. “Tsuchikage. Earlier, you asked me if this was our declaration of war. You can consider this our official statement.”

The stone walls groan.

“Don’t look at his eyes!” Shisui lunges forward, unsheathing his sword, and leaps. By the time he reaches him, the man is already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The war is here!!  
> Me, looking at the amount of fights I have to write in the near future: *chuckles* I'm in danger
> 
> -sidenote: I think this is the longest thing I've ever written  
> -Sasuke: every day is leg day when you're running from your problems  
> -I think Zetsu is actually an escaped SCP  
> -If you don't know what that is you're probably better off that way  
> -Minato kinda makes me.... eh. Like he really put a 13yo in charge of two other 13yos and put them in enemy territory by themselves? And he didn't seem all that upset when Obito died which struck me as odd. And then after Rin dies he assigns a clearly traumatized kid to ANBU, the most dehumanizing organization in existence, to 'help him get better'?? What kind of logic??? Isn't he supposed to be a genius?????  
> -Sasuke: *gives Itachi snakes*  
> -Itachi: *uses snakes to find him*  
> -Sasuke: You weren't supposed to do that  
> -Obito calls the Kage out on some shit because honestly they're all probably war criminals (not Temari she's a Small Child) and need to be called out for the things they did because?? Um?? Not cool??? Like the land of waves really got fucked over and no one talks about it ever lmao  
> -Uchiha bro reunion (the sequel)!  
> -Team Taka starts a revolution, good for them


	21. Heaven's Gate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy this OBSCENELY long chapter, this is maybe the longest chapter I've written yet

“Running a little late, aren’t you?” 

Sasuke glares up at Obito, and tenses. A backdrop of stone covered in flowering ivy provides them a sort of privacy while the others locate the Kages and ensure that the guests are safe. Other sections of the building aren't so lucky, cracked under the grip of Mokuton vines and roots. 

Zetsu is here, somewhere. Talking to someone. 

“Zetsu mentioned that you would be coming.” He tilts his head. “You know about Zetsu, don’t you? But then, you must know a lot of things.”

“I know who you are, and I know about the Infinite Tsukuyomi.”

“I figured as much, if you brought Madara with you.”

Sasuke tenses. 

“I take it you didn’t know about that, did you? How mature is that Rinnegan of yours?” He kicks his legs on the ledge. “You’re terribly young to be involved in this business. Terribly young to possess the Rinnegan.” He leans forward. “Where are you from, Sasuke?”

He deliberates. Obito and Zetsu are the only two he can’t quite pin down. Zetsu is still an unknown variable… but Obito had proven he had more dedication to his cause then to the Akatsuki itself. He clearly wasn’t going for the recruitment option, so unsanctioned conversation with someone actively trying to destroy the organization he worked for wasn’t exactly the picture of loyalty. If he could angle that, then maybe there was a chance… 

“Oh?” Obito leans forward, watching his eyes bleed red. “You’re going to show me, then? I’m waiting, cousin-of-mine.”

“Sasuke!” Naruto yells, rounding the corner that leads to the trimmed courtyard. He lost him to those cloak bastards one time before and he’s not about to let it happen again. That aloe-vera fucker in particular gives him the creeps. “Sasuke-”

Sasuke rubs a trail of blood off his cheek. 

“Oh. There you are. What were you doing…?”

“Nothing.”

Yeah, sure.

“Okay, well, Kakashi and Itachi made sure there was nobody hurt, ‘cause part of the ceiling caved back there-”

He cuts himself off prematurely, whirling around to see no other than Tsunade, flanked by an entourage of Kages, Temari among them. 

She regards them with wide eyes. _“One_ of you better explain what the hell is going on, _right now.”_

The Raikage’s first instinct, of course, is to activate Raiton. The black lightning crackles and hisses, an apt example of his capricious nature. An instinct that’s served him well in battle, no doubt, but not one so suited to civil discussion. “That boy - he’s a missing nin.”

Temari realizes the problem as soon as he’s pointed it out. The Kage don’t interact or negotiate with missing nin (not publicly, anyways. Temari has seen firsthand the terrible amount of work that is carried out by missing nin on behalf of the villages). Sasuke is believed to have associations with the Akatsuki and allegedly kidnapped the copy nin Kakashi. Sasuke is at the summit, _which has just been attacked by the Akatsuki._

“I grant them amnesty!” She says, before her mind has a chance to catch up. Tsunade turns to look at her, wide eyed. “By my word and under Sunagakure’s laws, they will not be harmed.”

The only perk to being Kazekage was to abuse the laws her father put into place. The ability to claim missing-nin under Suna. A way of recruiting defected agents from other villages, one that hasn’t been invoked in a long time. It’s a technicality - but they haven’t actually been charged with anything yet. 

“You can’t-”

“I can.” She brushes her palms on her skirts. “I just did. Unless you’d like to attest official precedent?”

Uneasy silence meets her. 

“Right. Then we should continue this conversation inside.”

Not for the first time, Naruto wishes that he could handle this conversation by himself. 

Sasuke is getting irritated. Nobody else can see it because Sasuke is about as easy to read as a brick wall, but his mouth is pinched at the corner, and there’s a stiffness to his shoulders. He worked it out sometime when he was gone and he came back different, but he’s still the only person that understands him.

And he’s angry.

Probably because they’re talking to the Kages, but snapping at them is a tactically poor decision, which he definitely knows. 

The questions are circular, leading back to the same nagging question caught up in the center of all the threads: _how? How do you know this?_

(The Rinnegan had definitely thrown them for a loop, though. None of them had any lack of questions about _that)._

“Edo Tensei is a technique that allows the souls of those long dead to be given human form again. It requires sacrifices. You’ve already seen their armies moving. Kabuto is using the prisons to fuel the jutsu. If you want to stop it, you need to find him.” Sasuke repeats, carefully blank, for the third time. His knuckles, around his knees, are going white. 

Naruto nudges him with his foot.

“I don’t question the validity of your information.” Tsunade says. “I want to know how you got it.”

“If you think it’s true, what does it matter how he got it?” Naruto interjects. 

“According to your medical files, Inoichi diagnosed you with retrograde amnesia. If that’s the case, when did you come across this information?”

Naruto can admit, that probably looks suspicious. 

“He isn’t associated with the Akatsuki.” Temari snaps. “He’s the one who killed Orochimaru.”

“Kakuzu is reported to have killed several of his own teammates over petty spats.” Tsunade replies. “If they can justify that, I doubt they would take much of an issue with Sasuke’s conduct during the invasion that had little to do with them.”

For a moment, Naruto watches Sasuke smooth back his expression again. His eyes still burn with resentment for anyone that cares to look.

“You’re still going to use the information.”

“We are.” Tsunade agrees.

“The Jubi will be reawakened soon, and Madara will be revived along with him. He’ll use the Infinite Tsukuyomi to place the world under a genjutsu. Everyone else will be killed.” 

Tsunade startles. “The Jubi? But that requires all the tailed beasts-”

“They have everything they need.” Sasuke interrupts. “The means are irrelevant. There’s nothing that can be done to stop them, at this point.”

“That contradicts everything we know-”

“Then what you know is _wrong._ Figure it out yourselves.”

Sasuke is done with this line of questioning. Naruto shifts closer, and it isn’t missed by anyone at the table. 

“If you weren’t under the Kazekage’s protection, I would have killed you for your arrogance.” The Raikage says. Sasuke stares at him, eerily flat. “If you think you could.”

Naruto squeaks. “Sasuke, _stop threatening the Kages-!”_

“Enough squabbling.” Temari hisses. “The man was right about our cooperation.”

“... Tobi.” Naruto offers uncertainly. Sasuke shakes his head near imperceptibly. His heart sinks as he glances to Kakashi behind them. Would it be kinder not to tell him at all?

“... Obito.” He corrects himself with reluctance. He feels the weight of Kakashi’s gaze on his back. God, that is _not_ a conversation he’s ready to have. Kakashi's going to put the pieces together, even if they don't say any more.

“You know his _name?”_

Temari stands up abruptly. “That is _enough._ We need to prioritize the war. We have orders to give.” She challenges them, waiting for a rebuttal.

Tsunade drags a hand down her face. “Fine. But no one leaves the premises. We’re keeping the two of you here.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He laughs nervously. He wraps a hand around Sasuke’s arm and leans in close to whisper. “I think we might have just made everything worse.”

Well, if nothing else, at least they have consistency going for them.

Sasuke sits on the patio, watching the rain fall. It’s always raining here. 

Working with the Rinnegan is no less taxing or infuriating, but he might even say that there’s been _progress._ He has no doubt that he’ll be able to see Madara’s shadows, but he’d rather avoid another issue like last time.

Now, as formless hands glide just across the thin reality that separates this world from the next, he at least has an idea of what it is and what will happen if he fucks up.

Finding the hole he made is easy enough. Trying to fix it is… less so. 

Something always stops him before he can get too close. 

“Hey.”

He drags his eyes open. Naruto is less determined to make a nuisance of himself than he remembers, perfectly quiet as he figures out Sage Mode again. He dangles one leg out into the rain. “Are you mad about the Kage? Your chakra was kinda… messed up there, for a minute.”

Maybe Asa had been right about the Rinnegan. 

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it _does,_ but even more if the Rinnegan reacts to emotion, right?”

“... she told you that.”

“Sure did.” He lights up. “Amazing what people will do if you just ask.”

Sasuke makes a point to glare.

“Don’t look at me like that. I - I get it if you’re mad. I do! It’s just that… you’ve been angry for, like, an entire decade. And I get that. I was really angry for a long time, too. And anger is good, because it motivates you, but… you never really _stopped_ being angry. Do you ever just… take a breather?”

“We can’t afford to waste time.”

So what if he _is_ angered by the Kage because if they'd just _cleaned up their mess_ they wouldn't be in this situation to begin with? There will be time for that later - and Sasuke isn't going to let it happen again. 

Naruto huffs. “Well, you’re not getting anywhere with what you’re doing now.”

He exhales, long and calming, and refocuses. Maybe there’s some truth to that. 

He tries again. 

Ino sighs in relief as she peels off blood splattered gloves into the biohazard bin and tosses her surgical mask into the garbage. Her first surgery had gone… remarkably well, all things considered. She wasn’t technically supposed to go into the ER so soon, but the hospital had been short staffed, and they’d needed the help. The patient had been, allegedly, working from somewhere along the border. He’d lacked any identification, but his Jonin colors were telling enough. 

It had been a lightning wound - and those were uncommon, and notoriously difficult to treat. She’d only come across a few in her experience, and they’d been limited to electrical burns and mild shocks. The body was a fine-tuned system that ran on subtle electrical signals, but this wound - well, it was like a tsunami sweeping through thin irrigation ditches. Sometimes there’s still a field left afterwards, but the same couldn’t be said about the channels. 

There were the obvious channels, but then there was fixing everything else that came out of it - heart defects, arrhythmia, he could go blind, deaf, have issues with dexterity. There was no real guarantee how he’d feel when he woke up.

“I’m clocking out!” She yells.

Chie waves from the filing cabinet. “I’ll check you out! Nice work today, and congratulations on your license!”

She smiles wide and retrieves her coat from the staff closet. “Thanks!”

She jogs down to the lobby. It’s bordering on midnight and the halls are quiet and mostly empty. They’re missing staff, most of whom have been deployed. She’d initially thought the internal conflict in Ame had sparked again and Iwa was calling in reinforcements and aid, but her father had told her that wasn’t the issue. There’s always the whispers of Edo Tensei in the back alleys she sometimes takes home and the not-strictly-legal night market. 

Armies of the dead seem improbable, but the rumor is so popular that she’s beginning to worry that there might be some truth to it.

A few people lounge on the couch. An old man with a cane, a child clutching a wrapped wrist, and Sakura, reading a magazine.

She grins and leans over the back of the couch. Sakura startles, and then tips her head back to look up at her.

“Hi.”

“Guess what.” Ino puts her hands on her hips. Sakura raises an eyebrow. “You’re talking to a licensed field medic.”

“That’s awesome!” Sakura reaches up to hug her. “They finally gave it to you, huh?”

“I think I was supposed to have a couple more drills, but, yeah. I get the vest tomorrow.”

Sakura grins wide. “I got my promotion a few days ago, too.”

“Look at us.” She smiles at the registration in her hands. “Two Chunin.”

Sakura puts the magazine back on the table. “It’s getting late. My Mom’s gonna be so mad.”

Ino offers her an arm, which Sakura loops with hers. “I guess we better go, then.”

The conversation with Kakashi only comes a day later, once it’s been too long in the making. 

Naruto makes Sasuke explain, because his voice cracks halfway through at the sheer _devastation_ on his face. 

“After you left,” Sasuke says quietly. “He was found by a man named Madara.”

The hall is filled with messenger hawks. There are orders to be carried back, allegiances to be forged. Temari hasn’t had so much as a second to breathe since the summit started. There’s always one more thing to sign and approve. The borders shut down, the ports stay open. She writes letters to Taki to try and convince them to join the war effort (Sasuke mentioned that their jinchuuriki was alive, according to the Nibi’s jinchuuriki, who’s apparently a pen pal of his, which was as absurd to her as it was the Raikage who apparently hasn’t received a report for her in months).

Domestic production has to be made more efficient, the military budget increased (much to the daimyo’s disdain, but during times of war, she is the one in charge), new trade trade routes that haven’t been compromised, a census on the soldiers, how much steel, wood, cloth, and shoes they’ll need. 

The main problem is going to be Otogakure and Kusagakure, the latter of which has openly allied itself with the Akatsuki. It isn’t surprising, considering their treatment. Tsunade storms into the room with a message from Alpha concerning Kusagakure’s internal affairs, and now they’re harboring Akatsuki forces, and their Shinobi are going missing. That’s much too close to the villages.

“What do they want with Otogakure?” A Councilwoman speaks up. 

“What _don’t_ they want. Orochimaru’s tunnels, his labs, his curse-mark patients. The fact that Kabuto is allegedly holed up in there, and he’s the main target if we want to end this war in a timely manner.” Tsunade strides across the room, gesturing vaguely to a map taped onto the wall. “It gives them a foothold - from there they have access to Amado sea, and they can access the North. Yukigakure doesn’t have a strong army, and it’s natural barriers will have no bearing on creatures that can’t die. Exposure means nothing to this army. They can also spread to Steam and stop all our trade with them, and from there they can get to Kumo.”

She visibly pales.

“If exposure isn’t an issue, Suna is a target too.” Temari mutters. “The desert is dangerous,” And awful, filled with scorpions and creatures that could be nightmare fodder, “But the main issue is simple exposure; heat stroke and dehydration. If both of those things fail…”

“They’re also immune to sickness.” Itachi offers. “That would mean they have access to the Land of Rivers.”

Which is currently handling an epidemic. Right. 

And that would give them further access to Suna and Konoha, along with the waterways.

“We have to stop them here.” Temari decides. “We need to cage them in.”

Tsunade is silent for a moment. “... we could use the railways.”

Railways. Typically only used by civilians and for shipping purposes. But railways seldom went anywhere that Shinobi needed to be, and usually not under proper time constraints. Speed was the main issue here, but the railways would conceal them, and unless the Akatsuki was ready to attack civilians directly, then…

“It works.” She breathes. 

“They have Kagero.” 

Oil-supplier. That’s going to be an issue.

“And the Land of Silk, and the Chigiri archipelago. They’re giving my ships hell.” The Raikage says. 

Isolating Kiri. 

“Temari.” Tsunade juts her chin towards the window. “Your messenger hawk is here.”

She resists the urge to sigh. They still need to secure the checkpoint cities, and she has to worry about distribution and inflation, the war effort on the homefront, and the fact that two war camps have already been destroyed. 

The hawk looks at her strangely. 

A message from Taki. She smooths a tired hand over its equally tired head.

“Let’s hope this is good news.”

Ino only brings the subject up when they close the border to tourists.

She knows that tourism makes up a good part of their revenue - it wouldn’t make sense to close the border unless something was happening. 

“Dad?”

The atmosphere around the dinner table is already tense. Dad brought his work home again, and Mom is very pointedly not mentioning the mission report smoothed across the table. Even her brothers are quiet, which is a feat in and of itself. 

He looks up from what must be a particularly taxing case and offers a tired smile. “What’s wrong, honey?”

They’re all looking at her now, and it’s a little late to go back. “What’s _really_ going on? I mean, all the medics are getting deployed, and the border’s shut down, and all the ports are full.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence.

“You caught onto all that, didn’t you.” He sighs. “Well, I should’ve expected that. You’re a Chunin now, after all. When I say this - nothing has been made official, so don’t go repeating this to anyone yet - but there’s a situation with a terrorist group in Amegakure right now.”

“A terrorist group?” She frowns. “If it’s this big a deal shouldn’t we have heard about it by now?”

“They didn’t want to scare anyone.” Kenta pipes up. 

Weak logic. 

“Are we going to war?”

Another moment of silence. “Probably.”

Mom glares. _“Must_ we talk about this at the dinner table?”

“Sorry, Mom.” She mumbles, and returns to her food.

Sakura gets her first assignment handed to her in a sleek black folder on top of a carefully folded Chunin vest. She had been ecstatic when the promotion came through a few days ago, her parents less so. 

_Heaven’s gate,_ the big, bolded print reads. She, Ino, Kiba, Hinata, and a name she doesn’t recognize under the leadership of Yamato-sensei have been assigned to seal up the tunnels in Otogakure because of the fear that anything from them could escape (which, she thinks sourly, could’ve been anything from curse mark test subjects to biological warfare).

She tucks the paper in her pocket as she shrugs her Chunin vest on.

“Good luck, honey!” Her father calls from the kitchen. 

She pulls her shoes on and flashes a grin. “See you in a couple weeks!”

She runs out the door.

They meet in the plaza next to the fountain. It turns out the unfamiliar woman is named Eiko, with a spill of bright red hair that swings at her back. 

“Hey, you were that specialist on Sasuke’s case!” Ino greets. She pauses. “Everyone forget I said that.”

“It’s good to see you again!” Eiko replies. “Man, all you kids are already Chunin? It took me ages to pass that exam.”

Ino smiles at Kiba. “Hey, dog breath, how did you get Chunin?”

Akamaru barks indignantly. “Hey, watch it, blondie.”

“He needed to be Chunin to go on this mission.” Hinata says, quietly enough that Sakura almost missed it. “So they promoted him.”

“Hey.” He pouts. “This is mutiny.”

Hinata smiles. “Kurenai-sensei says I’m in charge of the team.”

“She did _not.”_

Ino turns towards Sakura. “Eiko is from Uzushio. She’s a fuinjutsu master.”

“It’s nice to meet you!” She doesn’t question the whole ‘Sasuke’ thing. 

They’re interrupted as Yamato joins them.

“Everyone here?”

“Yes sir!”

He checks the assignment again. “Alright. Let’s be off, then.”

Fu absentmindedly strokes Chiha’s feathers as she alights on her arm. 

Yugito’s expression is that of stormy anger. Most of the borders they’ve passed are sealed, and if the situation weren’t quite so volatile, she’d be inclined to just take her chances. Unfortunately, there’s a war breaking out right before their eyes, and the last thing they need to do is make more enemies. Hence why they’re walking through a near untraversable mountain path that Matatabi had been so kind as to mention.

“There’s really a war going on? It seems pretty quiet.” Fu remarks.

“War is mostly waiting.” Yugito replies. “We can cross through the valley below.”

They reach the base of the mountain after an hour of travel. Yugito turns to address Chiha.

“Thank you for your help. Give Sasuke my regards - and ask if they've secured Takigakure's cooperation yet.”

_“Got it. I’ll ask him.”_

She takes off in a blur of brown and white feathers.

“Bye!” Fu waves.

Yugito stiffens and turns around. “There’s someone here.”

Fu blinks. “Huh?” 

They’re still high enough to have an aerial view, but they retreat into the foliage regardless. Below is what remains of what must have been a camp, dotted with several tents. Distinctly Konoha looking, but there was some Suna there, too. Ransacked, burning with several small fires. Matatabi bears her teeth, exhaling steam.

“That damned technique…”

The chakra signatures are off putting enough that she wouldn’t protest retreating. Chakra should be a closed system, not… whatever those were.

“What are those?”

“Edo Tensei.” She hisses. “They did it.” 

_Shit._ How long have they been able to do it? She doesn’t know anything useful about the technique, she doesn’t know if there’s a way to combat it.

“Fu, would you mind making a cocoon large enough to cover the camp?”

“Sure.” She pauses. “Why?”

Fire crackles beneath her skin. “We’re going to smoke them out.” 

If Karin didn’t know the tribes in Oto were a mess, she sure does now.

The council room hasn’t been touched in decades, since Orochimaru began his reign of terror. Now that he isn’t around to dictate what belonged to who, the fighting started up again. Her audience consists of four separate clanheads. It’s far from an accurate representation of the sheer diversity of Oto, but these four own the most land and have the greatest populations, and they’re also the most prone to territorial disputes. 

The only reason they can even have this discussion is because they’re now considered allies of the Mita. 

The argument thus far has been that it is in their nature to fight, and they cannot simply stop.

“I understand, but all that I’m asking is that you postpone some of the conflicts until we can locate Kabuto. I can’t find him if I’m constantly being interrupted by fighting.” 

The head of the Nakata clan sighs. “I cannot guarantee that for any territory that you come across.”

“There may be an alternative.” Miyazaki interjects. 

Karin perks up. Anything to make this conversation productive. 

“You can’t possibly mean to-”

“I could offer you a ceremonial birthright.”

“... which means?”

“There is an heirloom passed down between our families - it has stood for peace for centuries. It is the only thing I can think of that would grant you safe passage across the country.”

“I’ll accept anything.” She says resolutely.

Miyazaki sighs, relieved. “It is fortunate that we’ve managed to come to an agreement.”

She sighs. She just hopes that this time, it sticks.

The weather doesn’t improve within the week. Cold mud sticks to the bottom of his shoes and the air is thick with humidity. It’s just cold enough to be uncomfortable, wet with recent rainwater, the clouds overhead looming with the threat of an impending storm. Even without those cues, the knowledge sits heavy in his bones. He tastes petrichor in the air and runs his tongue over the ozone behind his teeth.

He closes his right eye and once again views everything through the lens of the spirit world, a constant fluctuation of energy moving in an organic fashion, waning and waxing like the pull of the tide. A lizard looks up at him from its rocky perch, a second pair of slitted eyes atop its normal ones. 

Naruto’s signature, which is steadily getting stronger, bursts from the summit and crosses the clearing in a few eager steps. He plops down into the wet grass beside him, grimacing at the squelching sound.

“Gross.” He immediately switches gears. “You practicing with your Rinnegan again? Oh, wait, look at this!” Burning chakra erupts around him, his head wreathed in fire, while black patterns flicker down the rest of him. “I got kyuubi mode back! Cool, right?”

Sasuke scoffs. 

Naruto bumps their shoulders together. “Hey, c’mon. It’s totally cool, I just forgot you’re a complete killjoy.”

They sit shoulder to shoulder for a minute. “Any luck?”

“Hn.”

Naruto sighs dramatically. “Y’know, I used to think you were so cool, because you were all quiet and wouldn’t talk to anyone and now I just think it’s because you can’t carry a conversation.”

“You thought I was _cool?”_

“No, shut up, that’s not what you were supposed to get out of this conversation.” He groans, resting his head on his shoulder. “You’re the worst.”

Naruto shifts so he’s using Sasuke like a pillow, who bristles at the indignity of it. “They kicked me out because everyone started yelling and that Raikage dude literally just lit up with lightning. Man, is that what being Hokage is like? Tsunade’s only had the title for like… a couple weeks and she already looks sick of it. Was she always like that?” He pauses. “Well, I guess you weren’t around for most of it.”

Sasuke glances down at him. “You still want the position.”

He’s silent for a beat too long. “Would it be weird if I didn’t?”

He lets the silence speak for itself. Naruto sighs. “I mean, it’s just like. I don’t know. I just thought the Hokage was supposed to be strong, right? But they have to do a lot of paperwork, and that’s not really my style, you know? I guess it could be. Maybe. But I think it was more about…” He fidgets. “Attention. That’s what Kurama was saying.”

“To make others acknowledge you.” He says slowly.

“Yeah.” Naruto perks up. “Like that. Not - not so much now, though. I guess I never really thought about what the position was. Just what I wanted it to be. But what about you? I know you don’t want to blow up the village anymore or whatever.”

Sasuke would never admit it, but he’d never actually expected to live past killing Itachi. He’d never considered that he’d escape the ordeal alive. And then that mindless guilt, loathing, and single minded determination had to be pointed towards a cause, or else he would’ve destroyed himself.

As far as he’s concerned, he doesn’t owe the village anything, certainly not his forgiveness. He doesn’t want to destroy it, now.

But even then, he hadn't considered the _after._

Naruto pokes him in the ribs. Sasuke pushes him off and onto the ground.

“Sasuke…” He whines. “You’re so mean.” 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

He sputters. “It wasn’t a stupid question!”

“What were they arguing about?”

Naruto disentangles a leaf from his hair. “Another camp got attacked. Somewhere in Kusagakure, I think? But they were ambushed and they think someone is leaking information, or something. They think the hawks might be getting intercepted.”

"Unlikely.”

“Well, someone’s leaking. They’re looking for seals and genjutsu and everything but Kakashi and Shisui both have the Sharingan and they should’ve been able to find something, and you have the Rinnegan so if you didn’t see anything-”

He turns back to survey the building again. No lingering trail of chakra that would indicate a seal of any kind. It was difficult to pick apart a genjutsu from the outside, but he’d been inside before, and there were no strange auditory or visual signals that would trigger one that he had seen. Inside, the blurry shapes of the Kages, the Council-

The _Council_.

“No.” He repeats, and frowns. “Someone must be-”

His blood turns to ice. The clouds rumble threateningly above, and the first rain falls, splitting open the ground. Cold nausea churns in his gut. He gets to his feet.

“What? Where are you going?”

“I know who it is.”

Danzo is no less horrible than he remembers him. The mental image is burned onto the back of his eyes, the Sharingan preserving the memory of arms full of grotesque Sharingans, nightmare fodder. No, the nightmare is different now, without the maelstrom of anger boiling in his chest. Rain hums a symphony against the ground and he grips his sword with slick palms until his knuckles go white. 

“Sasuke,” The source of every trauma he has drawls. “I was wondering when we’d talk again.”

A man who paraded under a guise of well-intentioned rhetoric. A man so convinced of his own righteousness that he had ordered the genocide of an entire clan so that he could harvest their power for his own. A man who condemned a thirteen year old to a lifetime of suffering. A man who planned to use Sasuke for the same purposes. 

The hysteric anger following Itachi’s death has left him with no buffer for Danzo’s true cruelty. He registers it in its entirety, feels its weight somewhere in his chest, now that there’s nothing to distract him. 

Chidori sparks in the rain. _Strong lightning-natures could predict storms._

“Imagine my surprise when you were returned so victoriously to your family. But you aren’t quite the same child, are you?”

The chirp of birds fills the air.

“Zetsu’s told me much about you. You see, when you were returned, I couldn’t help but wonder how such a miracle was possible. After all, the circumstances surrounding your disappearance-”

The shriek becomes loud enough to drown out his voice. Beneath the slowly soaking bandages wrapped tightly around his arms, he can see the bloody glow of Sharingan eyes, stolen from members of his clan. Children of the clan, not easily missed.

“It was such a shame, that your Sharingan didn’t awaken that day.” He continues unbidden, journeying a step closer as the bandages begin to unwind. “I was warned, of course, that you were the inferior son. The spare that the clan could afford to miss. You realize none of them looked for you, yes? No one looks for the things they don’t mind missing, you should understand.”

A step closer. It wouldn’t matter if he was caught in a genjutsu now, because his legs are locked up. He doesn’t lower his sword, and the downward pull in his stomach hasn’t eased. The knot tangles itself further, and the clouds overhead roar and flash. 

“Do you remember that day?”

An iron-grip around his wrist, yanking him down shadowed streets and into a condemned house at the end of the street, the way reality had parted around him like a river as it rearranged itself into long suspended platforms and opaque masks. 

Chidori arcs through the air and smashes into the ground just beside him. He avoids it even as static hums in the air.

“Ah, yes, a bit of a sore topic, I would imagine.”

His arms are lined with unblinking eyes. The smell of blood is dizzying. 

He struggles to process; Danzo and Zetsu have been collaborating, Danzo knows what he is, knows that he shouldn’t be here, that he’s the one leaking information - in that order. He doesn’t have time to focus on the sheer horror of it. He has a seal and he won’t give him the chance to use it. Worse, that _Zetsu_ knew what he is - that Obito wasn't the one to tell him, because he must have known prior-

_But the best lightning-natures_ controlled _the storms._

“Pitiful, to think this is what you’ve become. You’ve corrupted your brother, as well. You both would have made such wonderful soldiers. It’s a shame, truly.”

Kirin prowls in the underbelly of the storm. Lightning flashes and pulls, and he guides it into shape. 

It descends from the heavens in a shower of sparks and heat. Serrated teeth of lightning crackle between her jaws. Neon blue eyes stare as it coils like a viper. 

The world explodes in a mesh of light and sound. Kirin tears through the earth and destroys everything in its path. The force of it leaves him hollow boned and lightheaded, a persistent ringing in his ears. 

“Sasuke?”

He turns his sword on his brother. Itachi stares at the trembling point with wide eyes. He doesn't put it down. 

“No.” He says, breathless, ragged. He waits for the fragments of a living nightmare to rearrange themselves into reality, but he's awake. “I’m not your brother.”

Itachi, who’s been looking for someone he’s never going to find, who’s never fully allowed himself to grieve for a person who can’t come back, who he can’t replace, no matter how much he wishes he could, Itachi, who he dragged out after him again, raises his hands. 

“Sasuke,” He says slowly, inching a step closer. “What are you talking about?”

He takes a step back, inhaling sharply. _“Don’t.”_

“I lied to you.” He hates the way his voice shakes. “I told you that I didn’t remember. I’m not your brother. I’m not the one you lost.”

Itachi clearly doesn’t get it. He struggles with the hysteria roaring in his chest. His throat closes. 

“I don’t understand-”

The Mangekyo spins in his eyes. “Then I’ll show you.

The flash of an empty compound splattered with blood and the watchful eyes of crows. The Uchiha hideout, cracked earth and stone fresh with blood. Danzo, grinning manically as he hides behind the village. The edge of a battlefield sinking with bodies. He doesn’t say a thing as Itachi takes it in with dawning horror, doesn’t so much as move while horror starts to set in, the coppery scent of blood in his mouth and on his tongue and under his fingernails. 

_I’m not him,_ he can’t say. _I can’t be him._

_(These are your eyes and I killed you and if you had known that would you have been so eager to come after me-?)_

Itachi turns to face him, and Sasuke glares and bares his teeth. “I’m not your brother. He’s-”

_Gone. Me. Both._

“I’m not him.” 

He can’t be a child anymore. He couldn’t if he wanted to be. There’s blood under his nails and burned in his memory for the reliving. He’s seen war and the atrocities so casually committed by people in the name of peace, he’s seen the rot the villages are built upon and these are all things that he could have known organically if he hadn't been manipulated - in the hands of the village, in the hands of Orochimaru, in the hands of the Akatsuki. A thing of commodity. He doesn’t fit back neatly into a happy family life that he’s already forsaken. His parents, his clan, his team, Itachi, the very world he had once belonged to-

Sasuke is used to losing things. He should be used to this.

“You-” He fights to keep his voice steadily. Itachi doesn’t say anything, for a minute. 

Then he steps forward, and he barely registers it until there are arms wrapped firmly around his shoulders. The sword slips out of his hand. 

“I’m sorry.” Itachi says, and Sasuke shakes his head, moves to push him away. 

“I _lied_ to you.”

“This is… a lot. But I understand. I… suspected that something happened. I wasn’t sure, but… with the Rinnegan, and the way you acted, the things you know, I entertained some theories. None like this, though. And you didn’t lie about your memory. Sasuke, what did you think would happen if you told me? Why was it that you thought I wouldn’t follow you out here?”

Silence answers him.

“I forgive you.”

He says it so simply that it momentarily floors him. 

“No.” He says, on instinct. “You can’t.”

“I can. I _do.”_

There’s a terrible heat behind his eyes and an aching at the back of his throat. 

The genjutsu fades into dripping rainwater. 

“I didn’t come after you because I had an obligation to. I did it because I wanted to help _you_. You're still my brother, even if you're not the same as I remember.”

A hand finds his hair.

“I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was ridiculously difficult to write, jfc. Also there are mosquitoes getting into my room and if this doesn't stop immediately I'm simply going to have to cease existing. At least it's not bees this time tho
> 
> \- this got so long i'm so sorry  
> \- As it turns out writing about wars is hard  
> \- I simultaneously think Obito is a really cool character and I also like his scars while also wanting to drop kick him off a cliff  
> \- Temari is the only competent adult in a room full of actual adults  
> \- What did Obito see you ask?? Next time on Dragonball z-  
> \- Kakashi is straight up not having a good time  
> \- Danzo is the worst creature to ever exist!! Good riddance you piece of human garbage!!  
> \- Emotional resolution!!!!!


	22. Death Becomes Him

Obito is not present among them.

Zetsu makes this observation with little conviction behind it. It means he’s finally done something interesting, and Madara, in the later stages of being pieced back together, will react accordingly. Human emotions are so very strange and so very _delightful_ to play with. He’s sure Obito’s picked up on his intent weeks ago, now. Their game of cat and mouse is over, and this means he’s just about lived out his usefulness. 

He wonders what exactly the Uchiha boy showed him. Perhaps the ultimate end of Madara’s goal, or the bloodshed that led up to it, or his own tragic end. 

Human practicality seems just as inane to him as their emotions. Their morals and philosophy are hopelessly skewed and far beyond his realm of comprehension. He understands human psychology insofar as a hunter understands the psychology of a deer: when chased, they run. When chased, they fear. 

Their gathering lacks Tobi’s orange mask, and the others notice, no doubt. It seems they’ve finally picked up on Madara, too, as slow as they were to come to that conclusion. 

“Zetsu.” Pain demands. “What’s going on?”

Madara’s mouthpiece, carrying the Rinnegan. Useful so long as they didn’t deviate from his cause - but by that point, he’ll already be dead. The Uchiha boy has likely already shared what he knows with the gathered Kage - with him and the Uzumaki harboring the Sage’s power, they were the only two that constituted any sort of threat. 

“Tobi is missing.” Konan says, her eyes sharp over the hood of her robe. She’s always been the perceptive one. Her tone is light, but her posture spells danger. 

Not an illogical conclusion to draw, all things considered. His teeth gnash together in an uneven smile, a bear trap filled with needles. Obito is unlike the rest of them. Kamui allows him to grasp the fabric of reality more tightly than even he can in this form, allowing him a mobility that he doesn’t possess. Touched by the spirit world. Death left its fingerprints on him when Madara dragged him from the precipice, and death has not stopped reaching.

Anomalies often tend to gravitate towards each other. They are no exception.

“Tobi is inconsequential.” He replies, and she understands the emphasis immediately. A shiver passes down him - _joy,_ a human might call it. Distinctly physical. Somewhat unpleasant.

Madara’s soul stirs below them. He has referred to Zetsu as _his shadow_ before. Zetsu has many names, another will not hurt, and there is truth to this one. He and Madara are tied closely together, closely enough that he might as well be his shadow, carefully following his footsteps.

“It’s time for you to move.” He says. “We’ll have visitors coming very soon, and we need to be prepared.”

Pein bristles. “What have you done?”

“Quiet, quiet.” Mokuton slithers across the floor. Two eyes possessing the Rinnegan narrow, as if ready to impart divine justice, as so many legends claim. The crumbling rock gives way to the vines. “You wouldn’t want to wake the dead.”

Orochimaru’s tunnels are much more extensive than Sakura ever would’ve assumed. They’ve hit their fifth today, and the temperatures are starting to climb. Her hair sticks to the back of her neck, and her hands feel hot. Hinata leads the pack, searching for the hints of genjutsu meant to hide the entrances with her Byakugan. She and Kiba make good sensors, would make better trackers, while Ino is the field medic (since one is being assigned to every team now), and she and Yamato are meant to defend Eiko while she works.

“There’s one up ahead.” Hinata says quietly, and glances back to Yamato-sensei for permission. They have to be careful when crossing the countryside, especially this close to the border, when refugees from Kusagakure will be fleeing and crossing into Oto. Then there’s the warring clans to worry about - bursts of territorial anger have already had them chased off some private land and left them to find a different way to the tunnel.

He nods, and the six of them drop to the forest floor. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Sakura spots something that she hopes isn’t a statue, because that means there could be patrolling clans that guard this territory and they don’t need to be chased off the job again. 

This one is hidden between jagged pillars of rock, glamored to look like nothing more than a pile compost. 

“Clear!” Hinata calls, having confirmed that there aren’t any curse-marks or any of Orochimaru’s other monstrosities recently escaped (the two headed cobra hadn't been a pleasant surprise and neither had the person with the scorpion tail that preceded it). 

Eiko leans down to observe before starting with her seals again.

“Doesn’t Orochimaru keep prisoners?” Ino asks aloud, staring into the forest behind them. 

“He did. As far as we know, the prisons are sealed right now, so the tunnels are the only way out, if you know where you’re going.” Yamato replies.

“Is there anyone down there now?”

“I don’t see anything.” Hinata replies.

“And Akamaru doesn’t smell anybody down there.”

This isn’t one of the more important tunnels. Yamato knows his way around the compound, which makes her stomach turn. He hasn’t explicitly said that he was a consequence of Orochimaru’s research (the same research that led to the project with the Senju cells), but it could be implied. They’d been instructed to recover what research they could from the offices closer to the largest prison, presumably to see what they could find on Edo Tensei.

(Sakura still finds it hard to believe - that anything can revive souls from the dead).

Her flashlight had barely done anything to cut through the darkness, and the floor was sticky with things she’d rather not think about. Broken test tubes and shattered glass. A viscous liquid, apparently supposed to be bright green according to the plans they’d found on the table, had dried to a brown sludge on the floor.

She still doesn’t feel cleaned of the grime.

“What do you think he was doing with them?”

Sakura shakes her head. “It’s probably better not to think about it.”

Eiko straightens with a sigh. She runs her fingers through her hair and wipes the sweat off her jaw before she sets her hands on her hips. “Alright. That’s number six. What’s our quota for today?”

“We’re supposed to be through this sector today. We should expect ten more, if he hasn’t updated the tunnels.”

Ino groans. “Why does he need so many? It’s like an anthill down there.”

“Quit complaining.” Kiba rolls his eyes. “It’s just a little walking.”

“Tell that to the bugs.” She grumbles, and wipes off her palms on her vest. “Okay, where’s the next one-?”

“Is that smoke?”

They all follow Eiko’s gaze, settled above the treeline. 

“... wildfire?” Sakura offers uncertainly. It’s not impossible - natural wildfires happen all the time here, it burns through the shrubbery and leaves ash for the new seeds to be planted, but… 

Ino’s eyes are wide. “Isn’t there supposed to be a camp over there?”

Yamato grabs them both by the shoulders. “We have to go, now.”

They’re running before she registers it. 

“What’s going on?”

“Probably an attack.” Yamato doesn’t so much as pause. 

“But-”

The whole point was trying to keep them out of Oto, wasn’t it? And if they get here, then who knows how many people will be slaughtered - and then they’ll move North and it’ll get so much harder to stop them.

She digs her heels in.

Ino whirls around. “What are you doing?”

“Yamato-sensei, we have to help.”

“That’s what border patrol is for.” He reminds, but stops along with the rest of the group. She shakes her head. “If they’ve already gotten through the camp - then there’s no way _border patrol’s_ gonna stop them.”

Border patrol wasn’t even equipped to handle a regular person, let alone an undead soldier.

“There’s only six of us.” Kiba says, aghast. 

“The Fourth Hokage killed a thousand men in one battle. Number doesn’t mean much in a fight like this. And I don’t think we should take them head on, not if there’s that many of them.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

“Slow them down. Trap them. We have Mokuton, we could do it.” 

“I have an obligation to protect you.” Yamato says slowly. “We can’t afford to fight them now.”

Wasn’t that why the Otogakure issue was as bad as it was? Because no one could afford to do anything?

“We’re going to have to fight them at some point anyways. We have a better chance now-” She turns to Ino for help. She has the same fear in her eyes as when the Ichibi attacked, but this is a different monster. 

“She’s right. If they get in here, there’s no stopping them. We can stall them at the border, at least.”

Yamato doesn’t seem convinced. Sakura takes a deep breath. 

“I have this power, and what have I done with it? There’s a chance we can stop them, Yamato-sensei, and even if we don’t, we can slow them down. I-” She tenses. “I always run. I’m always supposed to run. When am I supposed to _stop?”_

He exhales. “When you’re sure you can win. What’s the plan?”

Sasuke is hardly pleased to be ripped away from his Rinnegan training. 

Temari would like to note that he hardly seems to be pleased anytime, but especially now. She sighs, and sits next to him. He glances at her out of the corner of his eyes before staring back ahead.

“You don’t seem to like the Kages much.”

“They’re exhausting.” 

He looks tired. She feels tired. 

She snorts. Her advisors wouldn’t like that. “I don’t disagree. The Raikage likes to incite arguments. I can’t say I understand the appeal.”

“They represent the system that caused these issues in the first place.” He says, perfectly flat. “This happened because of them.”

Temari brings her knees to her chest. “I understand.”

The quick glance speaks of his uncertainty.

She remembers her father’s decision to use Gaara as Shukaku’s container and she remembers the budget cuts and she remembers the mindless violence she almost acted upon, all in the name of her village. And for what? She would've gone along with the attack believing that it was the only way to get Suna out of its recession and she would've felt justified for it. 

“What do we do?” She asks instead. “This has been our way of life for… years.”

“Change is inevitable.” He replies. “... this system only ever breeds more violence. The Kage have the power to stop it."

She looks at him over her knees. “You sound sure.”

“I am sure.” 

The dark circles under his eyes are more prominent in the sun. She remembers him last night, dripping with rain, dragging himself inside with blood washing off his face and slumped shoulders. Danzo had been dead and the storm turning and crackling with such force even the Raikage had let it be, let it run its course.

“Are you alright? After everything with Danzo…”

It seemed personal. 

“Fine.” He snaps, and stands up. “What do they want to talk about?”

“What else?” She pushes herself up. “The Akatsuki.”

The war room is unusually quiet. The Council has been forcibly removed from the tactics; after everything that happened with Danzo, they couldn’t be sure that there wasn’t more than one leak. Good. If Sasuke had to look at them for more then another second, he couldn’t be sure that they wouldn’t meet Danzo’s same fate.

“The Akatsuki.” Tsunade starts without preface. “You’ve already identified their strengths and weaknesses. But in one on one combat, who would be best suited to take them on?”

“Can that be arranged?”

“Of course. Even the Akatsuki can be overwhelmed by numbers. If we attack at the right time, we should be able to get them alone.”

Sasuke nods. The only real problem among them is going to be Pein (and Zetsu, but that's another issue entirely). 

“You don’t need to concern yourselves with Madara. You’ll only get in our way. Focus on Pein. Out of all of them, he can cause the most destruction. Konan will likely be with him.” He surveys the pictures on the table. “Kabuto should be a priority.”

“He will be.” She replies. “We have agents placed in Otogakure locating him.”

“There might be someone guarding the cave…” He mumbles. “Sasori is vulnerable to taijutsu, and Kisame can see through genjutsu. Send someone with powerful taijutsu.”

“And what of Zetsu?”

As far as he knew, Zetsu didn’t fight his last time around. “I don’t know anything about Zetsu. Don't fight him unless you have a death wish.”

Tsunade makes a face. “That’s the limit of your knowledge?”

Sasuke shrugs. “I wasn’t aware he fought at all. I know he has Mokuton, and regenerative abilities.”

Across the room, Itachi is looking at him. Sasuke looks away before he can meet the gaze, because he knows he’ll be the first to break it. 

"They've been seen active in Amegakure. Both Sasori and Kisame have been seen roaming the border. Between the two of them they've already killed three patrols. They want a drawn out war, and we can't let them. We've begun surrounding Amegakure, but you and Naruto need to stay here until Madara is seen."

"I understand." 

“Alright.” She sighs. “If you have nothing more to add, you're free to go."

There doesn’t seem to be many of them. 

In the distance, the war camp is a smoldering heap of charcoal and ash. They must have a fire nature with them. 

Sakura and Yamato are currently in the process of… making some routes _less accessible,_ to say the least. Pushing boulders onto the paths, knocking over trees, growing new ones close together enough that only one person would be able to go through at a time. It won't be a strange look, either, considering the hostility between clans and the guerilla warfare that's been going on here for decades. Hinata and Kiba monitor their movement and key them in anytime they deviate from the path.

They need to guide them to the pass ahead beneath an outcropping of rock, narrow enough that trapping them should be easy.

“I’ve never encountered Edo Tensei before.” Eiko starts nervously. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to help.”

“My assignment says it’s a seal based technique.” Yamato replies. “If nothing else you might be able to interrupt it.”

“They’re coming this way.” Kiba interrupts. 

Below, a group of thirty or so individuals, their skin faded and gray, cracked around the eyes like porcelain, their sclera stained black. She suppresses a full-body shudder and ice plunges down her spine. She can feel the sluggish pull of their chakra, like tar creeping across a field. Sunken in eyes and an unnatural vitality to them. Undeterred by the heat or the elements. Even looking at them feels wrong in a way she can't describe.

“Make sure to immobilize them. We need Eiko to be able to look at them.”

Sakura nods, and prepares herself. 

They enter the pass.

_“Now.”_

There does turn out to be a fire nature among them. Sakura is very nearly incinerated by a wide plume of fire before Mokuton has any chance to reach them. Yamato takes care of that one first, securing his hands so he can’t perform hand signs while Sakura traps the rest of them in. 

Their regenerative abilities are… impressive, if nothing else. Almost immediately, debilitating wounds are closed, and evidently none of them feel pain. Apparently, without completely obliterating them instantaneously, they would regenerate. Maybe if they had someone with fire hot enough, but they don’t. 

If nothing else, Mokuton can at least keep them restrained. It costs her a couple of buns on her arms and near death by decapitation, but after the adrenaline has faded all of them are struggling within their own Mokuton cocoons.

“Shit.” She breathes, doubled over. Her arms ache. “How many of these guys are there?”

“Too many.” Ino replies, before ordering her to sit down so she can tend to the burns. She’s quick to do the same with Kiba and Akamaru. 

Eiko crouches over the fire-breathing one, his head turned into the dirt so he can’t move enough to target any of them. She has a hand in his hair, pulling it back so she can see his neck. Her mouth is pressed into a thin line.

“There.” She says. The evidence of the seal is painted in black across the back of his neck, edging closer to the hairline, like the manufacturing name on a doll. 

Sakura crouches next to her. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Everything.” She replies. “Chakra is a closed system. This body is being manipulated by someone - Hinata, you can see the chakra, can’t you?”

She nods slowly. “It’s coming from… somewhere else.” She turns. “All of them are, but I can’t see what they’re attached to.” 

“When you use a seal like that, there has to be physical evidence on the body you’re manipulating.” She explains. “You have to be connected. This one just has the three core characters so I can’t reverse engineer it - the original seal is likely much bigger.” She frowns. “I could try to sever the connection, but it doesn’t move both ways…”

“Why can’t we just… cut it? Or block it? Wouldn’t that work?”

She traces a black tomoe with her nail. “No, see this? This means _one way._ The chakra doesn’t flow back, it comes from a supplier. Trying to cut it would be like trying to cut a river. Blocking it would work… temporarily. The water will always find a way around the boulder, or it’ll eventually go through it. We need to find a way to destroy the vessel or the summoner.” 

Sakura purses her lips. “Then we need to find the summoner.”

“Yes. And get them to release the seal or break the seal ourselves.” She stands with a sigh. “We can leave the rest of them here, where they can’t hurt anyone. I’ll seal off the area. Can we take this one with us? The only way I’m gonna learn more about this thing is if I can study this one more.”

Yamato considers it for a moment, before finally shrugging. “If you have to.”

They secure him in Mokuton, easy enough for Yamato to drag along with him, and bury the rest of them. 

Karin feels the intruders the moment they cross the border. Their chakra is… wrong. Detached. Unearthly. It feels like dirt under her nails and the tinny smell of petrichor and ash, like decay. She’s also aware of the little bands of Konoha Shinobi they’ve been sending over. At the moment, they probably need the help, so she’s not about the order the merry band of warriors under her command to do anything. 

The clans had each provided a handful of soldiers. Not so many that travel became difficult, but enough that should they encounter a horde of Edo Tensei soldiers, they would have a fighting chance. The rest of them are for Kabuto, because she isn’t a fighter herself. She’s good with knives, but Kabuto will know that, and the last thing they need is to be at a disadvantage.

The prisons have almost run dry. She’s been keeping tabs on that situation for a while now, but it seems the problem has gotten dire enough that almost all of them have been picked off and used for sacrifices, and that’s not including whatever others that they got their hands on before that. In the prisons alone, Karin would place their numbers somewhere around thirteen thousand, and that’s on the lighter side.

“Ma’am.” One of the guards calls. “Another war camp was destroyed-”

“I know.” She replies, not bothering to turn around. There’s several groups of them, most numbering in the thirties, roaming Kusagakure right now, looking for a way in. The Konoha group took care of one of them (they should drop in later, just to make sure), but more are likely coming. She has no idea where they’re hiding all of them. 

Their problem lies in their invulnerability. The clans have declared a temporary ceasefire once she’d brought up the fact that after Kabuto was done with the people in the prisons, he’d move onto them, and when even _that_ hadn't been enough to convince them, threatening to involve the wealthy inner-cities finally made them cave.

“How come they call _you_ Ma’am?”

“Do you want to be called Ma’am?”

He throws a kunai at her, easily dodged. “Maybe I do, what do you know?”

They should come across the Konoha group organically, actually. They’re headed in about the same direction.

She turns to look over her shoulder. A few of the older men glare at her, but she survived in a prison full of Orochimaru’s monstrosities, Kabuto, and Orochimaru himself, and she’s not so easily intimidated. “We’re going to come across another Konoha group. Don’t attack them, they’re helping get rid of the undead army problem.”

Kimimaro glances at her. “Konoha is here?”

“Sure is. Guess they finally decided to clean up their mess, a decade too late.” She rolls her eyes. “Everyone try to be civil.”

“No promises.” Suigetsu grumbles, and trudges ahead. 

They seal up four more tunnels on the way. As they walk, Eiko theorizes out loud, and Sakura can admit that she has absolutely no idea what she’s talking about. Fuinjutsu wasn’t a central topic at school - they had only touched on it briefly, only long enough to explain what it was in simple terms and list some of its possible uses. One of which being keeping food from spoiling in the heat by sealing perishables away until they’re needed.

Sakura wipes sweat off her jaw. The sun overhead is merciless, and the only source of shade is deep in the crevices of rock to their left, following a river deep down. They’re entering the more mountainous stretch of Oto, which breathtaking views and a clear blue sky that she could appreciate if it weren’t for the undead corpse they’re lugging around and the highly uncomfortable heat. 

Kiba startles. “Akamaru says there’s people up there - a whole lot of them!”

Yamato exchanges glances with her. “Everyone hide. I’ll go see what it is.”

Before he can do so, a girl with dark red hair steps out of the bushes with her hands held up. 

Yamato blinks. Everyone pauses.

“You guys are from Konoha, right?” She asks. “My name’s Karin, I… have some people with me, we’re looking for the summoner of the Edo Tensei. We’re not you’re enemies, and we aren’t allied with the Akatsuki.”

Sakura allows herself to relax a bit. She doesn’t seem dangerous, but…

Akamaru barks, and wriggles free. 

“... he’s a good judge of character.” Kiba shrugs after a minute, watching her cautiously reach down to pat him on the head. “You think we should trust her?”

“Do you know where he is?” Yamato asks.

Karin pushes her black glasses up her nose. “I’m working on it. I’m a sensor, I can see chakra from a long way away. I’ll be able to find him soon.”

Yamato is silent for a long moment. “We could use the help.” He says after a long moment. 

She looks at Ino. “Is this a good idea?” She asks.

Sakura shrugs, and bumps their shoulders together. “... I guess we have the same goal. Can’t hurt to look.”

Karin puts her hands on her hips. “Well then, c’mon. We don’t have all day.”

Tsunade glances between the two of them. Itachi and Shisui stand nearly shoulder to shoulder, perfectly straight. Shisui is grinning. Itachi is stone faced. 

“You two. You’ve been made aware of the situation?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Itachi bows his head.

“We can’t afford to wait any longer. Their armies are already moving across the continent. You two are to be deployed to Amegakure with a group of your choosing. You’re to handle the situation there. Try to keep citizens from the crossfire where you can.”

“Is there anyone in particular you want us to deal with?”

“Everything should be in your mission report.” She hands him a black file. “You move in two days. If there’s no further questions, you’re both dismissed.”

Itachi stands in their shared room, packing what he thinks he might need. Amegakure is known for its poor weather. 

At the other end of the room, Shisui is watching, with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“So,” He starts conversationally, in a tone that makes Itachi know the topic is going to be less so. “You ready for this?”

“Of course.”

“Not to be nosy, but you don’t sound very convinced.”

Itachi mulls over his words. “It’s not that. I’m confident we’ll be able to carry out the mission.”

“Man, you sound like village propaganda.” He flops onto his cot. “You’ve got it down pat.”

Itachi rolls his eyes. “I’m fine, Shisui. Just… worried.”

“About?” He prompts.

“Sasuke says that he has to be the one to fight Madara. And that he and Naruto have to do it by themselves.” There’s something else in his tone that Shisui can’t quite place, but doesn’t demand immediate concern. Itachi gets like that sometimes, like he gets snagged on thoughts for too long at a time, but if he’s patient, it will usually sort itself out. 

Shisui rolls onto his back. “Am I the only one who finds all this hard to believe? Like, I know it’s happening, but it doesn’t _feel_ like it’s happening. I feel like I should've seen something catastrophic by now. Like, the dead wake up and some guy tries to rewrite reality? It sounds like a bad movie plot.” He picks his head up from the bed. “Also, it’s so weird that it’s like, your grandpa.”

“You know Madara didn’t have any children.”

“Yeah, okay, that we _know_ of. Sasuke looks just like him. Like that statue at the Valley of the End? And all those paintings back home? Are you _sure_ you’re not related? He could have, like. Some illegitimate child.”

“Don’t,” Itachi huffs a laugh. “Don’t let him hear you say that-”

“Yeah, yeah,” He waves a hand, “He’ll disembowel me, I know. But like, you see it, right?”

Itachi laughs. 

“Look, I know everyone’s terrified of our undead great grandpa, but I think Sasuke’s got it handled. He’s the one with the magic eye. You should make sure we get out of this alive, so you can continue to worry about everything.”

“Your motivational speeches leave a lot to be desired.”

Shisui grins. “But it worked, didn’t it?”

He rolls his eyes again. “Who do you want to bring with us?”

Shisui shrugs. “It depends on who they want us to kill.”

The black file sits on his bed. “Well, let’s find out.”

Kurunobe is a ghost town.

Fu glances at the long, empty alleys stretching on either side. Empty barrels are tipped over and filled with fly larvae. A stray cat darts into the bushes. 

The main plaza is a mess of footprints and dark spots in the dirt that look like blood. Tables carefully arranged under tarps are tipped over and the food that had rested on them is gone. Most of the doors hang open, and some have their locks cut. Triangles of broken glass hang from windows like crooked teeth. Flower pots are knocked over, stores empty and dark. The ground is littered in newspaper clippings, glass and lost kunai buried in the earth. There isn't a person to be seen. 

She's heard rumors that the same thing happened in Kurihara. That they're hitting all the checkpoint cities.

“What… happened?” Her eyes are wide and round. She slowly pushes a door open, and shifts away from whatever she finds. 

“This was a checkpoint city.” Yugito replies lowly. The blood is fresh, and the fire burning in the pit at the center of the city is recent. A sign that their army has come through. An old superstition, that the spirits of the deceased would be guided to the heavens by the smoke. She wonders if they have any humanity left, or if they’re simply following the orders of the summoner. 

This is where they were supposed to meet Kumo Shinobi and get their assignments.

She curses under her breath. They could still be anywhere in the vicinity.

They walk quickly, exiting its borders and hiding themselves among the forest.

“Well - where do we go now?”

Yugito deliberates. “Amegakure is the heart of the Akatsuki. I’m going to go and see what I can do to help there.” Konoha Shinobi have already begun to set up perimeter control there, so they’ll probably be welcomed to help. “You don’t have to follow me if you feel it’s too dangerous. I don’t want to drag you into a fight that we might lose.”

Fu huffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course I’m coming with you. What am I supposed to do while you’re gone? Sit at home and hope that you’re not dead? That’s stupid. If they win we all die anyways. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Yugito hides her smile in the top of her scarf. “If that’s what you want.”

Amegakure is to the West. At least a couple days worth of travel. 

“Go forward.” Matatabi urges. “There’s nothing to gain from these ashes.”

She turns behind her to look at Fu. “Let’s go.”

Kabuto’s cave isn’t as well hidden as he might otherwise expect it to be. Hard to get to, sure. But guards would draw attention, and the Uzumaki girl currently trekking halfway across the country would be able to sense him more easily. Then there’s the Hyuga and Inuzuka, who’ll pick up on him once they’re closer. Kabuto isn’t likely to let them get close.

Obito takes great joy in disposing of the guards.

The Infinite Tsukuyomi is far from an ideal plan, but Madara had been right when he said that peace couldn’t exist in a system like this. He has no love for the villages or the Kage - but the senseless slaughter of innocents, like Kabuto seems to be endorsing, is firmly against what he was told this was going to be. Casualty is inevitable in war, but Kurunobe was wiped off the map. Should that behavior continue, all they will have accomplished is the same destruction that had come of Amegakure.

The Shinobi system still needs to be disposed of, but… after having seen what Sasuke had to show him, it seems his priorities were never quite where Madara wanted them to be. The cursed seal on his heart is proof enough of that, and he’s still a pawn to be used.

Just the same as with Konoha.

(He wonders if poor Kakashi ever figured it out. Probably not).

Not to mention Zetsu is out for blood. 

He means nothing to Zetsu. He would tear his throat out for the fun of it. He might as well give him a reason. 

A vine creeps through the underbrush. Obito sets it on fire before it has the chance to strange him.

Zetsu rises from the earth with his same jagged, lopsided smile.

“Obito.” He purrs. “You missed our meeting.”

“My apologies, that was _terribly_ rude of me.”

“I do hope you aren’t trying to interfere with Kabuto’s work.”

Of course Zetsu would have a stake in Edo Tensei, everything revolves around that.

(Madara can exist outside it, though. As long as he and the Jubi wake up again, then Kabuto is as useless as him).

“You wouldn’t happen to know what happened in Kurihara, would you?”

Massacred. Not a single survivor.

Zetsu’s grin only stretches. 

A clawed finger reaches for his chest, right at his heart. He’s never been more grateful for intangibility.

“It would be…” There’s a primal, ancient hunger on his face, insatiable chaos. _“Such_ a shame if that seal of yours was activated."

Leaves crash. Zetsu turns his hungry, predatory gaze towards them, and prepares to lunge.

The Uzumaki child, and her group. The children from Konoha. 

He’s aware that Zetsu has the ability to escape Kamui. He reaches for him anyway, just as they get closer, and pulls them both under.

Naruto is a ball of burning light next to him. Through the Rinnegan, it's almost painful to look at him. 

“Are you okay?”

He sighs. “I would be better if you stopped interrupting me.”

Naruto huffs. “Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet.”

Sasuke again grapples for the pinpricks in the fabric of reality, ready to be smoothed over now that he has the power to do so. Keeping the balance between the spiritual and physical aspects of his chakra is difficult - he imagines this is what medical ninjutsu is like. He left his fingerprints on this world, and vice versa. It’s easy to trace them back to their source. 

“-but like… _are_ you okay?”

He forces his eyes open. “Stop distracting me.”

“It’s a valid question!”

“It’s a question you can save for any other time.”

“No, because you get all upset whenever you try to use the Rinnegan-”

“I _don’t.”_

“Right, because this is you not getting upset.” 

Sasuke glares. “It doesn’t concern you.”

Naruto glares right back, and grabs his hand. “If it concerns you, then it concerns me.”

Sasuke stares, but doesn’t try to pull away. Some of the tension in his shoulders eases, so Naruto takes that as his cue to continue. “You fixed things with Itachi, right? Or, you started to. So why can’t you use it?”

“I can get close.” He says eventually.

“Well… maybe you’re trying too hard? Try relaxing more. It’s supposed to be an instinctual thing, isn’t it?”

He takes a deep breath, and closes his right eye. He tries to let the tension go, and it feels like a type of vulnerability he can’t afford. Nevertheless, he tries again.

Zetsu watches the seal on the ground flicker. Obito had put up more than a fight than he expected - his arm is putting itself back together, and while he didn’t bleed, the same couldn’t be said about Obito. Too bad he hadn't the time to put an end to him right then and there. 

He circles cautiously. 

Madara opens his eyes. Sucks in a breath through his teeth, and stares with sightless eyes into the light above.

So, the boy did it, then. 

Wonderful. 

Zetsu feels the shift in the earth as Madara tears himself from the veil of sleep and adjusts to the waking world. 

The time to wait is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said there would be 24 chapters but I sit on a throne of lies (dw chap 25 is just an epilogue)
> 
> \- There's so much zetsu pov it's terrible after I wrote it my brain shut down as a defense mechanism because I am simply not equipped to deal with the inner machinations of the evil space cucumber  
> -Kakashi's piece on the Obito situation will be explored when the world is not in danger of global extinction  
> -Obito and Zetsu have officially tried to kill each other now, congrats guys  
> -Canon Obito is still such a weird character to me bc he's one of the many that suffers from Kishi's inability to write consistent character motivations (same problem with Hashirama, Naruto to an extent, Sakura, pretty much every character to some extent). So you're trying to tell me ONE conversation with Naruto changed his entire worldview?? I don't think so buddy. That doubt had to exist already. And I'm willing to believe at least most of his craziness came with the fact that he got crushed under a boulder, then had to live in a cave with senile grandpa Madara for a half a decade (honestly I think I would go crazy too), and then watching Kakashi kill Rin (even tho it wasn't intentional that was still very much traumatizing) and like yeah I get it that's pretty awful. But then??? His motivations?? He's with the Akatsuki and he's hearing what they're saying and he ONLY wants to see Rin??   
> \- So that's why he's more against the system itself because of what it did to him and his teammates as children and has a soft spot for children instead of whatever was going on in canon  
> -also does anyone know why killing the summoner of Edo Tensei doesn't work?? Like I know it doesn't but I have no idea why that would be 
> 
> Okay anyway thanks for reading :)


	23. Death Be Not Proud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi sorry I'm so late here have an obscenely long chapter

The trip from Kumogakure to Amegakure is a long, tedious one. 

They trudge through ankle-deep mud, churned from days worth of storms and torrential rain. In a matter of days they curl around Kusagakure and Konoha’s shared border, leaning into Konoha to avoid the guards and the increasingly troublesome paramilitary groups quickly cropping up. They’ve been attacked twice, but both times the flames of rebellion were quenched quietly.

The journey itself is less so. Shisui naturally wants to fill the silence that hangs over them - there is a time and a place for it, he understands, in the cold calm before a strike when surprise can mean the difference between life and death. But Kakashi’s barely spoken since the Obito name drop (and Shisui doesn’t really know what’s going on with that. Kakashi graduated out of the academy, and his team was considered confidential. All he knows is that Kakashi is the only one still alive, and Obito was a member of the Uchiha clan that died. Supposedly).

Itachi’s been strange too, ever since Danzo’s death. Tsunade is less than appreciative of his attempts to distract from the absolutely miserable weather, but he doesn’t care.

He pauses to look down at deep, water-filled gouges in the earth. A trail leads towards a dirt path.

That doesn’t look good. He says as much.

A few of them depart to investigate. Another town ransacked. That’s… disturbing, considering how close they are to Konoha. They’re in Fire Country now, so…

Tsunade hisses through her teeth. “Those bastards are getting closer.”

Shisui leans towards Itachi. “Grandpa crazy strikes again.”

It’s probably in poor taste to crack a joke. Then again, if Shisui didn’t have the armor of humor to hide behind he wouldn’t have made it past twelve. 

Itachi rolls his eyes. “He wasn’t actually here.”

“You don’t know that.” He replies. “Besides, it’s _his_ army.”

He sees Itachi glancing towards the destruction, so he shrugs an arm around his shoulders and tugs them both forward. Some part of him thinks Itachi never made peace with the reality of their occupation. When he was still indoctrinated to the village, he had a justification for it. And without that justification… well, it was a hard thing to reconcile.

“C’mon, we don’t have time to waste.”

If it’s possible, the weather gets _worse._

The rain comes down hard and fast. He’s drenched, head to toe, hair dripping in his face. He can barely see through the vicious downpour that reduces the countryside to nothing but one big puddle. His boots sink at least two inches into the mud before finding purchase in anything stable. It’s just as disgusting as the last time he had to come to Amegakure - this time, fortunately, there is a conspicuous lack of giant man-eating leeches.

Itachi looks even less enthusiastic as he does. Maybe it’s because he looks like a drowned cat.

At least it’s not the jungle.

“Well…” He tries for optimism. “At least there’s no bugs?”

Itachi doesn’t appreciate his attempt at lightening the mood, either. Shisui is wasted on these people. He does kick water at him (practically pointless, considering he’s already soaked) but the mere action is so childish he can’t help but grin and kick water back. Itachi glares. He tries not to laugh.

“You two!” Tsunade snaps. “We’re moving across an active war zone. What are you, _children?”_

He sticks his tongue out. She looks disgusted. 

Itachi snorts. 

“We’re approaching Ame.” Kakashi points out, vaguely amused. They should be a little more careful here on out, lest they attract the attention of the enemy.

Battlefields are all the same. Kakashi knows; he took part in the Third great war. He doesn’t know if Itachi remembers, or if he carries around some vague trauma that he can’t put his finger on. Though the big, flashy fights are the only thing immortalized about warfare, there is very little about wars that usually goes that way. This is the _out of options_ tactic. This is the _we have no other choice_ option. They don’t talk about the years of compounded tension between Kumo and Konoha when they talk about the war, don’t talk about the sabotage and espionage that went on behind the scene.

Shinobi are things that belong in the shadows. Out here, with the world in full view of all their crimes, they’re out of place. 

Enemy forces idle. Ame is too small for too many of them. Their own forces sit at the opposite side of the border, at a stalemate, waiting for someone to initiate the attack, separated by nothing but their own apprehension (maybe not for the zombies. Do the undead feel terror? Do the undead feel at all? He feels like this is the wrong time to ask).

He glances over his shoulder. This rock, slick with rainwater, is not an ideal hiding place. Tsunade tilts her head. Permission to move.

The peace doesn’t last long.

Shisui isn’t sure what does it. It’s probably the orange-haired figure standing at the head of enemy forces, though. Animal Path. There should be six of them in total, puppets for Nagato to act through, though the Human Path is reportedly serving its purpose somewhere else, gathering intel. Its abilities have no use on the battlefield.

The Animal Path looks at him with its Rinnegan eyes, and the fighting breaks out.

A Summon is called, a grotesque two-headed dog, frothing at the mouth. They were prepared for this, though. Tsunade summons Katsuyu, towering in her full size, and the fight between beasts starts. The thing about summons of that size was that they’re just as likely to crush your own forces as they are the enemy - the thing about undead armies is that being crushed probably isn’t going to stop them. 

Well, if he kills it quick enough, they won’t have to worry about it at all.

Shisui is known for nothing if not his speed.

He flickers, and before it has a chance to blink, he’s plunging a kunai forward. The Asura Path is the one that intervenes. 

There’s a screech of metal on metal. Mechanised insides, right.

The sword attached to its waist strikes like a cobra. Shisui is faster. Itachi is quick behind him, already calculating the melting temperature of steel. 

The Asura Path spits knives and barbed hooks, all while lashing out with its serrated sword, catching quite a few of its own teammates in the process (to no consequence, they stitch themselves back together soon after, unhindered). Shisui catches wire in his teeth and pulls, watching as it tightens, secured by Itachi’s knives, and pins the sword to the Asura Path’s back. 

Both he and Itachi make the signs for Katon before exhaling a swirling inferno of orange flames. While Itachi tends to that, Shisui uses the pinned sword as a kickboard and launches himself after the Animal Path. He glances over his shoulder.

"You can go! I've got this handled!"

Behind him, Katsuyu acts as a shield while Tsunade tends to the wounded, the seal on her forehead wound down her arms. 

The dog summon roars as it hacks through more of their Shinobi. Shisui doesn’t have the opportunity to look behind him as a claw nearly takes out his side. His Sharingan sees through the kinetic movement, and he ducks to the side just as it slashes down. Shisui tightens his grip around the kunai and launches himself towards the Animal Path. It whirls around just as Shisui forces the kunai into its eye. The beast howls and knocks back the next wave of Shinobi, containing both its allies and enemies. 

Killing them is impossible. Even by destroying their bodies, they can be regenerated, a luxury their own soldiers don’t have. Instead, they need to buy time for Itachi and Kakashi to get to Nagato’s real body, where they’ll supposedly have to fight off Konan. 

The battle is awash with sound and movement and light that he doesn’t quite register. The blur of silver weapons sealed with explosive tags and the blood he almost slips in slides off his consciousness as the dog summon turns its attention to him. He might not be able to kill the summoner, but… 

“Tsunade!” He yells. He can barely hear himself. While the Animal Path tries to free the kunai from its eye, Shisui breathes Katon, feeling the superheated air engulf it. Behind him, the mechanical whirring of the Asura Path has begun again. It doesn’t get the chance to hurl any more weapons. An assortment of weapons bury themselves in its joints with a heavy thud. A stray pillar of fire soars over his head.

He ducks before he can get caught in the crossfire. The Asura Path attempts to remove one of its arms, only to find it caught. The kunai buried expertly between its joints clicks and screeches as it tries to move. Instead, it frees its sword from the wire binding it and wrenches open its jaw.

The knife-thrower, a girl with her hair pulled into buns, grimaces, and Shisui barely reaches her in time to pull her down as a concentrated chakra beam decimates the topography of buildings behind. As they topple over, even the Sharingan can’t catch how many are crushed beneath them.

Shisui slams his palms on the ground and summons a wall of earth to crash over the approaching herd of Edo Tensei puppets, twisting his wrist to seal them inside a dome of earth. That should, if nothing else, contain them. 

Tsunade emerges from behind Katsuyu, covered in blood. “Where’s the Deva Path?”

“I don’t know, we’ve only seen the Asura and Animal Paths.”

Tsunade hisses through her teeth. _“Where_ is the Raikage?”

Shisui doesn’t have an answer to that, either.

The earth beneath them rocks. It’s all the warning he gets before another volley of weapons is unleashed. The kunai beneath the joints are gone. 

“Shit.” The girl at his side hisses. “Those were supposed to last longer.”

He forms a ledge of earth for her to hide behind. “You, keep throwing those while I try to contain it.”

She looks at him with wide eyes and nods.

They won’t regenerate so long as they can keep the Naraka Path away (and that’s the Mizukage’s job, he reminds himself, he doesn’t need to get involved with that-). His Mangekyo spins to life, and the world is tainted in blood. The next chakra blast catches him in the side, but he barely feels the pain. The arm of Susano forms, ready to crush the Asura Path to death in its grip. 

He doesn’t get the chance, though, because the Preta Path that the Tsuchikage was responsible for appears just in time to make a nuisance of itself.

The chakra from Susano is leeched from him so suddenly that it knocks the wind out of him. He stumbles for a moment, saved by being impaled only by Tsunade’s interference.

“Brat.” She hisses, breaking the Asura Path’s arm in her grip and wrenching it away and into the dirt. The Preta Path advances, ready to deplete her chakra stores, but the two of them flee before it can get to them. A kunai flies over their heads. 

Shisui covers one eye and whispers Amaterasu onto the next volley of soldiers, and the black devouring flames jump and catch. The soldiers march forward, not even their dust able to repair them before they’re burned to ash.

“Don’t waste your chakra like that.” Tsunade snaps, kneeling as Katsuyu curls around them again. She swipes at the blood rolling down his cheeks. “You’re going to go blind before you’re twenty five.”

“If I live that long.” He says. “The world’s kind of ending.”

The Tsuchikage takes the opportunity to vault over Katsuyu’s side. He’s bleeding rather profusely. 

“Tsuchikage-”

“Damn fucking _seven swordsmen_ got me.” He snarls. The light between his arthritic hands wobbles. “Tsunade, get me an opening with the Preta Path.”

She huffs. “Fine. Shisui, don’t get yourself killed while I’m gone.”

He laughs weakly. “No promises.”

Itachi runs faster than he ever has. 

Kakashi is a sensor type, and given the general location of where Naruto claimed Nagato to be hiding, he’s the best one to track him down. Itachi is here for support, and the strike force trailing them is backup in case either of them should be incapacitated. 

Sasuke had expressed concern that Konan or the Deva Path would be waiting to greet them - it’s more likely that the Deva Path should be dealing with the main forces, but it hasn’t been spotted on the battlefield, according to Shisui. The crow perched on his shoulder shares with him the piecemeal mental image of Katsuyu towering over him in the background, a wound weeping blood. 

Amegakure is in ruins. It’s only the countryside, but Itachi can understand Nagato’s grievances. Their world is built and sustained with cruelty that has endured generations. 

Itachi doesn’t know if they’re wrong. Fighting for Konoha with the same unwavering loyalty doesn’t feel right, certainly. Itachi has never known a life without bloodshed, but he imagines it would be better. Kinder.

He wishes it hadn't come to this at all.

“How close are we?”

Kakashi grimaces. “Not far, but-”

Itachi senses it then.

“Is that-?”

The Deva Path. _Shit._

Definitely not something the two of them alone are equipped to handle. 

“If he doesn’t confront us here, he’ll go to the front lines.” Kakashi says tightly. “The Kages should be able to deal with him better than we can here. We can get away - but I need you to trust me for a minute, okay?”

Itachi… isn’t sure he likes how that sounds. “Kakashi?”

The Mangekyo whorls to life. “I’ve been trying out a new technique.”

The world churns to a halt around them. 

Tsunade takes _great_ pleasure in smashing through the enemy’s ranks. They don’t stay down for long, but apparently, breaking them into pieces does have some impact on their recovery time. She stops occasionally to heal fallen Shinobi, much to the Tsuchikage’s displeasure.

“Hurry up!” He snaps. She guides what would be an otherwise fatal head wound closed while another field medic ferries him back to safety. 

“If you’d defeated the Preta Path by _yourself_ this wouldn’t be a problem-”

The Animal Path is still causing trouble, and it’s still between them and the target. She cracks her fist. “You need an opening? I’ll make one, but you better get it right this time.” 

The Animal Path blinks two perfectly healed Rinnegan eyes at her, and she drives a super-powered fist into its face. The bird behind it screeches and swipes at her with shiny black talons, but it’s not quick enough to catch her. 

While she distracts it, the Tsuchikage makes for the Preta Path, and Tsunade can only hope to hold its attention for long enough.

The wound isn’t bleeding anymore, but Shisui feels pointedly the effects of chakra exhaustion. Using the Mangekyo long-term is never advisable under any circumstances, especially considering he’ll need his eyes tended to after this if he doesn’t want to go blind. He walks around the makeshift hospital, past overworked med-nin treating people that will get back on the battlefield as soon as they’re recovered enough. With unkillable soldiers, their Shinobi need to be just as versatile.

Outside, it… isn’t looking good. They’re losing more men than they’re incapacitating the enemy. Amaterasu has claimed two of the animal summons now, but the only people who are making much headway are the Kages.

Tsunade told him not to get himself killed, but he’s wasting time sitting here. 

He walks around Katsuyu, who spares him a withering glance, before plunging headfirst back into the chaos. The ground is wet with blood where he steps, a never-ending back and forth of fire and water techniques overhead. He can probably get away with using Amaterasu one more time without feeling the effects, but-

“Shisui!”

The voice is familiar. He turns around to see Mikoto and Fugaku, flanked by members of the clan.

She grins. “Backup’s here!”

Ino doesn’t anticipate the warping air in front of her as the same man in the mask is deposited into the grass, clutching a chest wound with one bloody glove. Black, like the color of her father’s jacket, because black hides blood stains best.

_“Shit.”_ Sakura hisses, leaping away like a startled cat while Eiko works at the seals in the entrance of the cave. She curses under her breath as she works the last chain off and the seal breaks. She sighs in relief and steps back, ready to interrogate the newcomer, wiping the sweat off her jaw. The victory is short lived, because something steps out of the bushes just as she does.

The bleeding man inhales, a choked, wet sound, and moves faster than anyone with an injury of that nature should be able to. The thing in the grass is unlike anything Ino has ever seen: some bastardization of human and plant, a wicked set of fangs arranged in its mouth, stained with blood. An eerie smile reflected on both sides of its two-toned face. It hisses, vines thrashing in the undergrowth. It doesn’t move like it should, terribly out of place among them, like one of Shikamaru’s ridiculous ghost stories, a demon wearing human skin. It lunges with the intent to kill them, but the man reaches out and the both of them spiral out of existence again.

“What’s going on!?” Sakura doesn’t shriek, but it’s a near thing.

Yamato purses his lips. He can’t decide if it’s safer to stay out here or if they should go and face Kabuto once and for all.

“We’re going inside.” Karin announces, glancing warily at the bushes and making the decision that Kabuto is less dangerous. Ino isn't quite sure how they're going to manage that, considering the seal on the entrance is still intact. “Thanks for the help, but we’ve got it.”

She doesn’t wait for an answer as she storms inside, Kimimaro and Suigetsu on her heels. Juugo tries for an apologetic smile before hurrying after them.

“That guy-”

He’s back the next second, a bundle of hissing sparks and displaced air. 

“What the hell.” Ino says through her teeth, and shoves him back against the ground as more blood spills out of him. “What the hell, what the _hell.”_

“Who are you? What was that? What’s-?” Sakura cuts herself off before she can finish. 

“He likes to be called Zetsu.” The man replies, flippant. “Don’t worry about the wound, it’ll sort itself out.”

Ino gapes, but when she glances back down, fingernails tearing at the black fabric stuck to his chest, she finds that he isn’t lying - the wound is healing. And it shouldn’t be. “Are you a Jinchuuriki?” The only explanation she can find is one she’s seen Naruto demonstrate.

The laugh that shudders through him would be more reassuring if it weren’t for the wet, hacking way it came out. “No. Good try, though. The thing’s name is Zetsu, and he wants you dead. Since you all had the brilliant idea to challenge Kabuto in his own workspace, you pose a threat to his army. He’s making to dispose of you.”

“He’s part of the Akatsuki?”

“He _is_ the Akatsuki.” He says it the way one might say the weather is nice today. “Unfortunately for all of us, he’s the one calling the shots right now.”

Right, as if Ino’s blood pressure needed to go up any higher. “What - what is he?” She shakes her head. Irrelevant question. “Why does he want to kill you?” 

“I’m not privy to the inner workings of his mind.” He replies dryly. “I assume it’s because I irritate him. But it’s in my best interest to kill him, as it is yours, so how about we focus on this shared goal for the time being.”

Yamato frowns. “You know quite a bit about the Akatsuki.”

“I’m afraid I do.” He replies. “Given that one of them is vying for my head, I think it’s rather a given.” He’s on his feet in an instant, the wound completely closed. “I’ll get you inside the cave if you two can get the seal off my heart.”

Ino stiffens. “Your heart?” 

“Yes.” He says, and his patience is pointedly condescending. “Unless you plan to waste your time out here?”

Sakura purses her lips. “How can you-?”

“Easy.” He replies. “If you’re ready-”

He disappears, and takes everyone with him. 

Ino breathes tightly through her teeth as he reappears, and glances at Eiko, who shrugs.

“He helped us.” She whispers. “And I’m honor-bound to help everyone.”

Ino sights, rustling her bangs. “We’ll help.”

The ground rearranges itself beneath her feet with a jolt. The impact is so jarring that Sakura stumbles sideways into the cave wall with a low grunt. It’s so dark it’s nearly impossible to see. She reaches for Yamato, who steadies her, and peers down into the mouth of the cave.

“So…” The voice that welcomes them echoes against the stone and chases itself in circles so tight it spirals. Sakura feels nauseous. It smells like blood and decay. “I have visitors. How unlikely.”

The figure that appears is covered in pale scales, fading into normal skin near the hands. A horn extends from the temple, a horrible bastardization of human and beast. 

_“Kabuto.”_ Karin grimaces. "I haven't missed your ugly mug."

“Uzumaki brat.” Kabuto hisses. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.” The light in his yellow eyes shifts. “I suppose now is as good a time as ever to correct that mistake.”

Yugito and Fu shadow the movement of the Konoha soldiers headed towards Amegakure. They’re not front line - most of them look barely fifteen, Chunin freshly promoted. Konoha liked to say that it didn’t allow Genin in war, but there was nothing prohibiting them from simply promoting Genin to Chunin when the time for action came. 

“Can we move on now?” Fu whines, squinting down at the camp. “You said you knew the way!”

Moving more soldiers always takes more time. Fu is… rightfully impatient. 

“Go ahead.” Matatabi replies to her unanswered question, her flames the popping coals of a campfire. “The path is unobstructed.”

So she glances down at Fu and shrugs. “Matatabi says it’s safe to move.”

They follow the path, nearly skidding down crumbling crags. The roads are uneven, ditches filled with muddy water, when her hackles rise suddenly. Fu blinks big eyes, no doubt registering the change in temperature. “Chomei just froze up.” She says. “What’s wrong?”

Yugito isn’t sure who the question is directed at. Either way, the answer is cut off by the morphing earth before them. 

“Zetsu.” Matatabi snarls, a conflagration swirling behind her eyes. Her tails lash, and Yugito feels her anger boil beneath her skin, cooking her alive. 

While he flashes them a smile, he looks notably less put-together than the last time they saw him. His smile, if it could be called that, is tinged with fury. Blood stains the corner of his mouth, and Yugito doesn’t want to know whether or not it's his.

She has a sinking feeling that it isn’t. 

Matatabi hisses through bared teeth as he dredges two more figures out of the earth, spitting fizzling embers onto cold stone. Yugito exhales; the air is so hot it might as well be steam.

“I’d love to chat, Chomei, Matatabi, but I’m afraid we have more important things to do.” 

Kisame and someone with bright red hair form. 

“You’re dangerous to him.” Matatabi reminds her, smoke curling around her ears. “I can burn through his army of corpses. He needs you out of the way.”

Why he wasn’t dealing with them himself, then, was the question. 

There isn’t so much as a second glance as he melts into the earth again, even as she shares in Matatabi’s primal desire to shred him to pieces. 

Kisame smiles instead. Bared fangs. Uncomfortable. He swings Samehada over his shoulder. “That plant bastard is especially unpleasant, wouldn’t you say?”

The - boy? - doesn’t visibly respond. His face is blank and unfeeling. “Let’s get on with it.”

Kisame grins, real, this time. “I thought you’d never ask.”

There’s so much blood and as many surgeries as Ino has taken part of, she _isn’t prepared for this._

The seal Eiko planted on his chest prevents the movement of chakra - prevents rapid regeneration. She’s seen it used on Jinchuuriki before, because so often a bone would heal wrong or a wound wouldn’t shut correctly without proper intervention. The wound doesn’t sew itself shut like it had before. Ino is the only thing keeping him from bleeding out, keeping him from the ambient infection that hangs in the air, that lurks in the grass. 

“Ino.” Her voice only shakes a little. “Relax, you’re doing fine.”

She knows she is. She isn’t the youngest med-nin to get her license for nothing. The blood circulates, her chakra protects him from infection, she stays calm, because so close, the patient feeds off your emotions just as surely. “How are you doing with the seal?”

A bead of sweat rolls down her jaw.

“Fine.” Eiko replies through her teeth. “It’s - complicated. But not impossible. As long as I’m careful…” 

She winds her hand counter-clockwise, unsealing the characters one by one, and with each one she releases, she places a new, stabilizing seal to replace it. 

“To make sure his heart doesn’t collapse.” She rambles. “I can release these by myself without hurting him, but this seal is so old that it’s practically intertwined with his cardiovascular system - whoever did this must be… ” She shakes her head. “Incredibly cruel.” 

Down to two characters.

“These two characters are going to be…” She swallows. “Tricky. This may or may not blow us up.”

Ino absolutely does not panic. Neither of them can afford to panic. Medical ninjutsu requires complete control over your emotions, so she takes a deep breath and forcefully calms her jumping heart. 

“Right.” She says, around her tongue. “Right. Okay. You’ve been doing great so far, it’s gonna be fine.” 

Eiko’s laugh is slightly strangled. “I’ve done something like this before, ten years ago. Diffusing explosives is a lot less fun when they’re attached to people.”

Ino holds her breath as the last character comes off, slowly, and then it dissolves like melting ice. Eiko doesn’t give herself even a moment to breathe before releasing the chakra-blocks while Ino guides the healing process with slightly-shaking hands, carefully reattaching and rearranging broken ribs.

Ino, hands covered in blood, leans back with a heavy sigh. The relief is so potent that it almost hurts.

“Wow.” Eiko says after a moment. “That’s one for the history books.”

Ino just takes a deep breath. “If we survive this, I’m asking for a raise.”

Sakura only realizes it’s a genjutsu the moment it’s too late. 

She blinks away the gilding of light just in time to watch Kabuto drop from the ceiling and aim a chakra scalpel for her chest. It’s instinct alone that saves her.

Mokuton erupts from the earth, slamming hard against the cave ceiling. Kabuto retreats, only to aim a second time at Karin. Suigetsu gets between them, dissolving his side into water so the attack goes right through him.

Karin’s eyes widen at the last moment, and she grabs him to pull him back, but not before Kabuto makes the signs for a jutsu that sends lightning sparking through him.

Kimimaro rushes to take his place. Shikotsumyaku activates, and bones sharper than tempered steel grow along his arms. Kabuto flashes a smile, and as the snake wound through his chest shifts, he mirrors the movement.

That alone is able to startle Kimimaro enough that the attack is abandoned.

Sakura tries to fit Mokuton between them, but the movement requires too much precision in such an enclosed space, and she doesn’t trust that she won’t accidentally hit anyone in the process. 

Yamato angles in front of her while Mokuton stabs through the air at the space Kabuto had just occupied. She whirls around, and raises her kunai. In the reflection, his eyes stare back at her. The edge of a knife presses against her throat, just with enough pressure behind it to draw a thin line of blood, and everyone freezes.

She feels him shift behind her, and prepares Mokuton. She’s been in worse situations. Kakashi taught her how to get out of worse situations.

She tilts her chin up. He releases a web-based binding that ties together both Karin and Jugo. Sakura presses her fingertips together, and the knife slides against her skin as Mokuton bursts from the ground, slamming up against the cave ceiling with enough force that they’re showered in debris.

“Are you okay?” Yamato shouts. She smears the blood with the back of her hand. Her heart hammers in her ears. “Fine!”

Yamato pushes in front of her as a water dragon snaps its wings open and rears forward to crush them all under high-pressure water. Mokuton diverts it, and Yamato pulls another beam up from behind him. Kabuto exhales fire into the cave, and the air blots with smoke.

Sakura blinks the stinging out of her eyes.

“Sakura!” Karin yells. “He’s behind you!”

She and Yamato turn at the same time as a head snakes out of the smoke. Unruly, wiry black hair.

“Don’t draw blood, it’s poisonous!”

The head - _Orochimaru’s_ head - opens its mouth, revealing a maw of sharp fangs. It lunges, and through the smoke, it’s almost impossible to tell where he’s coming from.

Yamato calls forth Mokuton again, but Kimimaro’s bone manipulation bisects it. It splinters, swaying, before falling to the ground with a heavy _thud._ Someone screams, but Sakura can’t be sure who. Her throat aches. 

More bones erupt from the ground, and one nearly cuts her in half. Mokuton protects her from the worst of the damage, but one does catch her in the leg. 

She feels the earth shake as Yamato uses Mokuton again, this time accompanied by a shrill shriek from Karin: _“Don’t kill him!_ We won’t be able to undo Edo Tensei!”

“Yamato-sensei!” She shouts.

She stumbles back blindly through the darkness to find him. She turns sharply to the left as something drifts through the smoky darkness.

“There!”

Sakura’s Mokuton hits him first, binding his hands behind him just like she was taught, but Yamato’s is the one that secures him fully, wrapped up so he can’t use his hand signs, the snake extending from his back secured so that it can’t transform again into something worth.

Sakura’s shoulders heave as she searches for breath. At the other side of the cave, what looks like electric burns run down Karin’s arm. The arm of her jacket is scorched in places, and her glasses are cracked.

“Fucker found out how to electrocute the webs.” She growls. Suigetsu emerges after her, grimacing as he places an elbow on her shoulder for balance. He’s wearing the same electrical burns. Kimimaro is in the corner talking quietly to Jugo while he talks him down from whatever is happening with the curse mark.

Yamato runs a hand over his face and tries not to sigh. “Is everyone alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Karin tears a hand through her hair. It looks like teeth marks ripped through the collar, but she’s otherwise unharmed. Ino should probably check out those scars, though. She’s always talking about how severe lightning wounds can be. “He’s the one we’ve got to worry about. Either we reverse the seal, or we get him to release it, and I don’t think the second one’s gonna happen anytime soon.”

Yamato nods. “So we should get Eiko.”

“Assuming that guy didn’t kill them.” Suigetsu says under his breath. Sakura turns to glare pointedly, and he raises his arms in surrender, before wincing. “What?”

Sakura can’t exactly claim that she wants to spend any more time in the cave, so she follows after as Karin and Suigetsu trail out. 

“I’ll stay here and watch him.” Yamato promises as she glances over her shoulder. “Go get Ino and Eiko.”

She nods, turns on her heel, and steps into the sunlight. 

Kisame’s sword is a problem.

He grins through his teeth. “Samehada doesn’t like fire-chakra much, but she’ll make an exception.”

Matatabi’s fire flares blue and Yugito leaps back out of his range before she enters his range again. 

While Sasori draws forth his puppets, scorpion tail lashing out, Fu is the first to respond to the attack. 

“I’ll take care of this one!” She shouts. 

Kisame is skilled in taijutsu. In that, she can match him. The sword, however, will prove a problem. 

Beside them, Sasori produces a cloud of poison gas. Fu crouches and manifests Chomei’s wings. She blows the smog back towards him and Kisame, who repels it with a swirling shield of water. 

If she can melt Samehada’s handle, she can win the fight. 

Kisame can’t flood the field because of Sasori, so as long as she finishes him before Fu finishes Sasori, they have a chance at winning, but she isn’t so confident in her own abilities that she thinks the win will be easy.

Kisame swings Samehada and Yugito lengthens her nails into claws. She’s gone toe to toe with the best swordsmen Kumo has to offer, and even as big as Samehada is, she can parry him. She limits the chakra flow to her hand, ensuring that Samehada can’t absorb as much from her chakra points. Samehada is big, and heavy, and slow. Underwater he might be faster, but here?

She aims for beneath, for the hands wrapped around the handle. His skin will heal, but the handle won’t. 

She exhales a fireball, but Kisame is quick to counter her flames with a water dragon, neck coiling like a python and jaw hanging open. She leaps back before it can drown her, and when it gets closer, she forces the temperature of the flames up high enough that the water evaporates on contact. 

“Careful!” Matatabi snaps. In this form, her body can only handle so much heat. 

She grits her teeth as Kisame advances again. She meets him blow by blow. Her arms shake as she pushes Samehada away from her face. Kisame grins with a maw lined with fangs.

“Not bad.”

Samehada chips at her chakra. She inhales sharply, pushes it up, and flips back. She catches herself on her hand and swipes up with her foot. She rips through the cloak and catches the hard edge of overlapping scales. 

He touches the bloody fabric stuck to his chest and grins. Two water clones form at his sides, rising from the puddles at his feet. She hisses through her teeth.

“Matatabi.” She says. 

Cobalt fire explodes around her. Two tails of fire lash behind her. Wreathed in fire, she lunges at the water clones. 

Two water dragons form, advancing with bared teeth. The flames sizzle and crack, but Yugito sets her shoulders and the flames evaporate into steam. In the distance, where Fu corners Sasori with Chomei’s chakra thread, winding his puppets up with thread and burying them beneath the earth. 

Samehada swings down like the blade of a guillotine. It slashes down her side. The fire explodes out, but Samehada is quick to absorb it. She tips backwards, and rolls out of the way as he slashes it again. The wound pulses and throbs, but it doesn’t heal and close over like it should.

Kisame grins. “Samehada doesn’t just flay skin.”

She swallows the taste of blood and ash. She disperses the flames around her hands and swipes for the sword’s handle. Spikes protrude from the wood, and they wrestle for control. Fire builds up in the back of her throat, and she exhales a plume of blue flames. 

Samehada once again buries itself in her side, but she’s close enough to melt the handle. She burns and burns and _burns_ and the wood burns with her.

“Yugito!” Matatabi snaps. She feels like her insides are boiling.

Kisame stumbles back, waiting for newer, weaker scales to graft over the horrific burns marring his face, chest, and hands. 

In the distance, Fu screams.

The fire comes back, angry and terrified, even though if she wants to stay in control she needs to limit Matatabi’s chakra. She pounces, claws of fire digging into the blackening earth, her head just above his. 

_Tear his throat out._

The flames roar, and her vision cuts to blue. 

“Yugito!” Matatabi breaks through the haze of smoke. “Enough. Get Fu.”

Kisame isn’t getting up soon, if the severity of those burns are any indication. Burns are the single most difficult wound to heal - chakra can’t travel through dead cells.

She launches herself towards Sasori just in time to see Fu be stabbed through the side by a blade.

Fire engulfs her vision again. She’s not sure which puppet body she burns through, but Fu, lying on the ground, extends a hand to pin the puppet to the earth. Attached to Sasori’s wrists, preventing the use of the pipes on his hands, is Chomei’s thread.

She slams him into the ground, the heat easily enough to melt through steel. A clawed hand plunges into the core in his chest. She rips it out. 

She stays hunched that way, breathing ragged, for a minute. The flames burn hot around her until she turns to see Fu lying motionless on the ground.

She stumbles to her feet, the fire fading away. 

She crouches over Fu’s body, prone on the ground, bleeding sluggishly. If she doesn’t get the wound closed quickly, she’s going to bleed out. Blue flames flicker at the edge of her vision, and her peripheral vision blurs. The air tastes like charcoal and the burning smell of a wildfire.

A few feet away, Samehada sticks out of the grass. 

She could spare Kisame the indignity of a drawn out death. Kirigakure Shinobi are supposed to be killed in battle. To be left there is a dishonor and a sign of weakness. But he isn’t part of Kirigakure anymore, and she wonders if she would have ended up in the Akatsuki if she had had the opportunity. 

He’s a little like her, maybe. She remembers revelling in the flames when she burned the monastery down, convinced that she would die in that inferno, that Matatabi would burn her to ashes and she would take everyone that had hurt her so terribly down with her. Even their names are a remnant of the village’s cruelty: a human sacrifice. 

She deals the killing blow. 

She hauls Fu over her aching shoulder, her breathing shallow and wheezing. With one more glance behind her, she turns and runs.

Zetsu’s smile never fails to unnerve him. Accentuated by the glowing yellow eye on his face, the only spot of color on an otherwise black shadow, it only becomes more off putting. 

“Obito.” He purrs. “I see you’ve taken care of the curse seal.”

His entire front is splattered in blood. He would be more concerned if Zetsu hadn't made the connection. 

“I’m not Madara’s dog.” He replies cheerfully. Zetsu’s left eye narrows. The yellow one stays unblinkingly, unwaveringly whole, like a pool of opaque paint, hollow and unseeing. He still isn’t sure what exactly Zetsu is, beyond the fact that he doesn’t belong here. Sometimes his shadow forgets to line up, or he smiles with too many teeth, and Obito is reminded that Zetsu is hardly a thing to be categorized.

“I wonder what the Uchiha boy showed you.” He tilts his head. “For you to have changed allegiances willingly.” 

It apparently isn’t the first time he’s turned traitor at an inopportune time, and Zetsu knows this. He wants to know what Obito saw.

“I think I’ve just come to the conclusion that staying with the Akatsuki is no longer in my best interest.”

Obito hates the village to his core. The Akatsuki’s plan, on the surface, was as perfectly reasonable as its motivations for doing so. Worldwide annihilation would bring about peace, because humans could not achieve that themselves. Obito understands the sentiment, but it’s not worse than the Infinite Tsukuyomi plan, certainly not with Zetsu’s ulterior motives.

“It’s a pity,” Zetsu says. “That it’s too late for you to make much of a difference.”

Zetsu wants to kill Sasuke and Naruto. His grudge against Hagoromo is a deep seated one, that Zetsu will act upon by any means necessary. As the only two that have the ability to seal Madara away for good, he needs them out of the way, and Obito isn’t going to let him do it.

(If he lets them die, if he stands back, does that make him any better than the villages he hates so much?)

“If you insist on making an obstacle of yourself…” Sadistic joy clings like shadows to his words. “Then I’ll be happy to dispose of you myself.”

Behind his mask, Obito smiles.

“If you think you can.”

The wait is agonizing.

The amalgamation of tents surrounding them is a hasty setup, and the Shinobi camped out are buzzing with nervous energy. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife, and if Naruto doesn’t stop shaking the board with his knee, Sasuke might be tempted to cut more than just that. 

“Stop that.” He says, and glares down at the board. He doesn’t recognize the game and he doesn’t care to enlighten himself about its rules. Naruto doesn’t know the rules, either, nor does he care to play. But he puts the piece on the black square. “Your turn.”

“That’s not how you play.” He snaps. 

They appear to be the youngest ones here. A Chunin gives them a pitying look as he passes and Ryoko bares her teeth. That’s the end of the sympathy they get. 

Naruto taps his foot. Naruto jostles the board. Sasuke glares.

“I’m _sorry._ I just - I can’t just sit here while people are getting killed-!”

“You can.” He replies. “It’s our responsibility to stay alive so the entire world doesn’t die.”

He throws back his head and groans. “But we could be helping.” 

“Doesn’t matter. We’re not as strong as we were last time and we can’t afford to waste any energy. Do you know what happened when we tried your way?” He moves his piece and takes Naruto’s. He still doesn’t know how to play the game, and no one is brave enough to approach them and teach him otherwise. “Everyone died.”

Naruto puts his head in his arms. “I know. I know, you’re right, I’m just…”

“It’s not your responsibility.” Sasuke says. “In the end, more lives are saved this way.”

Naruto peaks at him through his arms. “Your hawks and snakes can sense what’s going on, right? They’ll tell you when something happens?”

“Yes.”

The conversation ends. Two Chunin throw a pile of hay between them. Another tends to the pot hanging above the meager campfire they were able to create in the rainy weather. The heart of the battle is close enough that he can feel Pein’s chakra.

Naruto doesn’t want to eat. Sasuke doesn’t really want to either.

They’ve gone through their plan ten times already. He’s accounted for all possible variables. He knows what needs to be done and how they need to go about doing it. They don’t have the option of failure this time around, because Sasuke doesn’t think he can pull off another stunt like last time, and doesn’t want to be in the position where that’s their only option.

Sasuke stiffens as Aya shifts. “What is it?”

_“We have to go.”_

“Naruto.”

“Already? You just told me to wait twenty minutes ago-”

“Shut up. Let’s go.” He grabs his hand.

Ryuchi cave is _trembling._ Shuddering, like the earth itself is waking up, taking its first breaths. Ryoko, several feet ahead, urges them to go faster. 

Naruto’s fingernails dig crescents into his arm. “What’s that sound?”

_“Hurry.”_ Ryoko hisses. The ground breaks above them.

Madara is a face that Sasuke had hoped to never see again. A single, cracked horn - an injury carried over, two Rinnegan eyes to counter Sasuke’s own. Naruto inhales through his teeth, and Ryoko rears back to hiss. He can feel Aoda through the earth, threatening movement from the cave for the first time in decades.

“Children.” He drawls out the word. “To think you harnessed the power of the Rinnegan to escape me. It was quite the commendable effort, but I’m afraid the switch wasn’t as clean as you thought it was, Sasuke. You got lucky.” Madara extends an arm, covered in seals. “I laid in pieces underneath the Akatsuki headquarters.”

His grin feels like ice water. Orange chakra flares to life around Naruto like a protective shield. 

“You won’t be so lucky this time.”

The second that memory rewrites reality is the same time that the moon bleeds red, as the god tree erupts from the earth, its roots stretching far beneath the ground and cracking the earth beneath their feet. Naruto hauls the both of them away as everything around them starts to break, as the breath gets caught in his throat, pushing up against his diaphragm. The cold is a bundle of needles at the base of his spine, static on his tongue, a numbness in his fingers.

Naruto’s face crumples. “This is how it felt when-”

The god tree, dredged from the pits of the earth, in full bloom in the moonlight, will bring with it the spirit world, blending them together until whatever divide there had been is gone, allowing for the Infinite Tsukuyomi to be cast. Allowing the destruction of the world twice over.

“You still want to fight me, even as you are?” 

Naruto grabs his hand, and he can feel Hagoromo’s power pooling. Madara’s eyes narrow.

“Peace is unachievable. People are an inherently vile species. There is nothing but meaningless violence awaiting us. But if you still oppose me, then so be it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This monstrosity is literally over 7.5k words and that is... a lot. I think I had such a hard time writing this because the entire chapter is just one long fight scene and writing fight scenes is so hard dafdskafds. Writing this physically pained me but I did it and if it's incoherent I'm so sorry
> 
> I had a lot of fun with the Yugito scene and also I think Tsunade should've fought more. Okay I think that's all I have to say thanks for reading


	24. The World Goes Silent

Hinata and Kiba are, for lack of a better word, compromised.

They were assigned to go find the nearest camp and inform the leader of what was going on - that Yamato had decided to engage Kabuto in a fight after all, and just in case none of them came back, that’s what did them in. A bit morbid, but it always paid to be aware of what your soldiers were doing. That, and Hinata is fairly sure that Yamato didn’t want to have to cover for more kids than was absolutely necessary. Sakura was his protege, so it made sense that he would keep her around, and Ino was a medic, so her presence was practically demanded. 

They hadn't, however, accounted for the fact that the undead have no need to rest for any reason, and thus, they’d already moved to attack the camp they were heading for.

Crammed in the smallest alcove they could find, Hinata watches with her Byakugan as they congregate in the middle of the camp. The only chakra she can sense is distorted, which means that they’ve already killed everyone there.

They aren’t moving, and for a moment, Hinata is worried they’ve spotted them.

Kiba doesn’t share her concerns. “So we just have to wait until they leave, right?”

“I - I don't think you’re taking this situation seriously enough.” She whispers, so quiet she can barely hear herself talk.

He shakes his head. “They’re way too far out to see us. If we try to move we’ll definitely get caught and I don’t like the odds of outrunning an entire army, so we just gotta wait.”

Hinata sighs. “I guess.”

In the distance, fire crackles. Hinata, drawn to the macabre visual like a moth to fire, can’t look away from the destruction. Kiba doesn’t seem to acknowledge it at all. If this is what Shinobi are supposed to do, are supposed to live with and deal out and suffer, maybe her father was right, maybe she _isn’t_ cut out to be a Shinobi. She isn’t sure that’s quite so bad as he made it out to be.

“Hey, if we get out of this alive, what’re you gonna do?”

“We probably shouldn’t be talking.” She whispers, half out of fear that they’ll hear, and half something else. 

“Hey, these could be our last words.” Which is… less than comforting. “My Mom’s thinking of opening an animal shelter. My sister is gonna help her. She said she’s retiring from ANBU after this.”

Hinata sinks, her chin resting on her knees. “I don’t know. I want to do something about the clan, but…”

“Hey, once your sister is in power she can do something, right?” 

“Yeah.” She mumbles after a moment, and then perks up. “Hey, I think those guys are moving.” 

“Okay, where are we supposed to go now?”

“Let’s… try the border.”

Kiba grins. “You got it, captain.”

“So… what now?” The pink haired girl, Sakura, asks, shifting uneasily between her feet. Kabuto, locked by Mokuton, is largely incapable of moving, much less performing the seals necessary to undo the technique - not that Karin really expects him to, even, and not that she would ever consider giving him the opportunity to. 

Karin sighs and pulls her glasses off. The left lens is cracked down the middle. Unsalvageable. She pops it out of its frame and sticks the glasses in her pocket. Her sensing should make up for the deficit that is her frankly terrible eyesight. “Now nothing.”

_“Nothing?”_

She tilts her head towards Eiko, splattered liberally with blood and looking for all the world like she would collapse at the first opportunity. Karin, despite her Uzumaki heritage, knows very little about fuinjutsu, much less the more advanced kind that she’s working with now. “We let her do the work. We can’t kill him or we can’t undo the jutsu, but we can’t force him to release it. So we have to go right for the source.”

Sakura sags under the weight of the knowledge that there’s nothing else they can do. 

The Jonin puts a hand on both their shoulders and guides them away from Kabuto’s coffin. He inclines his head towards their group. “We’re going to wait outside to give Eiko some space.”

And get them out of the creepy murder cave, more likely. 

Suigetsu rubs the burns on his arms, grumbling. “I’m gonna wait outside. It stinks like hell in here.”

Juugo and Kimimaro rest in the corner, slumped against each other and holding each other up. She… hadn't considered that bringing Kimimaro to the fight with them might’ve actually been counterintuitive. The emotional fallout of being confronted with Orochimaru’s protege might’ve been enough to overwhelm him, or worse, convince him to change allegiances. Thankfully, he hadn't, but it was an oversight she should’ve at least considered. 

She glances at the both of them for a moment, before deciding not to intrude. Eiko, on the other hand, seems like the kind of person that needs to talk through her problems. That, and she’s a fellow Uzumaki. Karin had met a few of them during her time in Oto, ones who didn’t remember anything about Uzushio or weren’t around to see it. 

She crouches next to her, staring down at the arrangement of seals, slathered with blood.

Eiko grimaces as she looks at it. “You have an interest in sealing?”

Karin shrugs. “It’d be useful to learn.” She allows. “You’re from Uzushio, aren’t you?”

Eiko looks up at her to grin, before returning to her diligent work. “I am. I thought you were Uzumaki, too. That red hair’s hard to mistake.”

Karin always has been curious about Uzushio. Her mother had been from there, but she never spoke of it in any capacity. She just wishes that they were having this conversation under better circumstances. “I’ve never been. What was it like?”

“Beautiful.” She replies, and undertakes the careful testing of one of the characters. Karin can’t even begin to fathom what she’s doing. “There was a big river that went through the city. All these high suspended walkways. Everything was connected. There were these big, pink and white flowers that bloomed during the Spring.”

Another character erodes. Eiko bites her lip.

“Sorry, am I distracting?”

“No, no, I talk without thinking when I’m nervous. This gives me a chance to info-dump about home.”

Karin trails Kabuto’s chakra signature. He’s unconscious, but still supplying the Edo Tensei soldiers, still attached to the contract. 

She settles back, and listens.

Sakura drags a Mokuton stick through the dirt to try to explain the rules of the game better to Suigetsu, who promptly informs her that he cannot, in fact, read.

“What do you _mean_ you can’t read?!” She squawks.

Suigetsu shrugs. Ino, who’d long given up on trying to inform him of the intricacies of the game has the gall to _laugh._ “I dunno. I just never learned?”

“I- that’s-” She tears a hand through her hair. “Okay, new game, it’s called the alphabet.” 

Suigetsu leans over to see whatever she’s drawing in the dirt. Ino dismisses herself to scrub the blood off her in the nearby river, sat by Yamato, who’s on lookout.

“Hey!”

Karin darts out of the mouth of the cave that they kicked down, grinning with a mouth of sharp teeth. “Hey, Eiko figured out what’s going on with Edo Tensei, you might want to check this out.”

In the entirety of the Uchiha clan, there are three people with access to the Mangekyo: Shisui, Mikoto, and Fugaku. Four, if he includes Sasuke. Between the three of them, there’s no way for them to defeat an entire army. They can take down quite a few, though.

“You okay?” Mikoto calls, hacking her sword recklessly through the Shinobi’s ribcage, before shooting it through with lightning. The more damage dealt, the harder it is for them to regenerate. 

Shisui wipes the blood from his face. “Fine!” He yells over the roar of battle. Adrenaline surges in his chest, half hysteric. “You wanna bet I can kill more than you?”

Her smile is knife-sharp. “You’re on.”

Tsunade already smashed the Animal Path to pieces, and the Tsuchikage has dealt with the Preta Path accordingly. Even without their protection, though, their enemy is a formidable one. So far, burying them deep under the earth and binding them through any means necessary seems to be the ideal method of dealing with them.

Shisui slams his hands on the ground and a wave of earth erupts and folds over several Shinobi, burying them underneath. 

He sucks in a breath through his teeth and ignores the blood and sweat staining his shirt. He tastes blood and dirt on his teeth, the air smells like copper. His muscles tremble, but Shisui’s fought harder and for longer. 

His chakra is thinning from the extended use of Amaterasu, but his control is developed enough that he can get creative with his application of his reserves. Pushing existing earth up is much easier than drawing up vertical walls to crash over people, and more useful in subduing them. Regular fire seemed to keep them down longer, as well, but the dust that seemed to make them up always eventually healed whatever damage was dealt, so long that there was anything left _to_ heal. 

“Shit!” Tsunade curses.

“What’s wrong?”

“Apparently Konan ambushed the Raikage and Mizukage.” She replies through grit teeth. “It didn’t kill either of them, but the Deva Path almost did.”

“Deva Path-?”

The earth trembles. 

Oh, no.

The world rearranges beneath Itachi’s feet so suddenly he stumbles to the side, crashing into Kakashi who seems similarly disoriented.

“What was _that?”_

“Well,” Kakashi says breathlessly, his eyes still bleeding red with the Mangekyo. “Sasuke calls it Kamui. I’ve been practicing, but I’m not quite good at it yet. I think I undershot the distance.”

“You-?” Itachi doesn’t have time to think too deeply about the implications of that statement. Was it a precise science, or a general estimation? He wouldn’t have time to ask. 

The ground they land on is completely decimated. Craters up to his knees, as wide around as a tree in the Forest of Death. Across from them is a woman with blue hair, a paper carnation sitting behind her ear. Konan. With the great paper wings opened behind her, it’s not difficult to see where her epithet of angel comes from. 

He grabs Kakashi’s arm with white knuckles.

Kakashi follows his gaze to the chasm across from them, filled with enough explosives - most detonated - to level a city. And in the wreckage, he sees the Raikage, stained with blood. The Mizukage is a purple-blue blot at the side of the crater, lifting herself on shaking arms. Out of all of the Akatsuki, Konan was the only one that neither Sasuke nor Naruto had sufficient information on, and thus it made it hard for Temari to place them strategically.

“Paper bombs.” Kakashi says, face paling, just as Itachi tastes ozone on the air. Kakashi grabs him by the shoulder and yanks them into Kamui again, but this time the ground settles beneath them more quickly, harder, at a different angle, that sends them both careening to the side in a tangle of limbs.

Itachi draws his sword just in time to deflect the paper shurikens raining from the sky.

Kakashi groans. “I don’t think I can do that again.”

“Don’t strain the Mangekyo.” Itachi says, and yanks him to his feet. Konan, across from them, drifting eerily with her artificial wings, looks exhausted. If she managed to take out two Kages, he can understand. She tilts her chin up, though, as the sky opens and begins to pour.

Rainwater drips down his nose, and Katon bursts towards her on draconic wings of fire. He grabs Kakashi and yanks them both under a dome of earth as another explosive goes off - paper bombs, they had said, but were unable to identify how many she could produce, or how powerful the explosions were. She was always the main unknown variable.

Kakashi frees the both of them and readies Chidori. 

Itachi glances at him out of the corner of his eye. “Do you have enough chakra for that?” 

“Quiet, brat, of course I do.” 

Konan’s skin seems to fold away into squares of thin paper. Her right eye pinches. “I will not allow you to kill Nagato.”

Itachi exhales another pillar of fire that crackles in the rain. With the Sharingan, he watches her movement closely as she substitutes a paper clone in her place, and it goes up in brilliant orange flames. He whirls around to find that they’re surrounded. 

Itachi springs into motion, tracking the path least likely to get them both blown to pieces. The ground cracks and explodes beneath them in a burst of flames and heat, kicking up a thick cloud of smoke that swallows the world.

Itachi glances at the ground. He can see the shape of chakra lingering beneath the earth. “We need to get out of here. She has the entire area rigged to explode.”

Kakashi grimaces. “Give me a minute.”

Itachi bites his tongue and nods. He can sense her chakra signature hovering on the other side of the thick curtain of smoke, waiting. The back of his throat stings. 

He watches the chakra in the ground shift; it’s been activated. Itachi hisses and leaps back just as the world is engulfed in another inferno. Out of all the five elements, he’s probably the least well versed in Suiton, but he can still easily use it. A great tidal wave crashes over the flames and smothers the blast enough that Itachi doesn’t sustain much aside from a few burns. It flings hot water into the air. Some of it vaporizes on contact. 

He forms the signs necessary for the water dragon jutsu Kakashi taught him back in his early years of ANBU and floods the earth. Towards the edge of the chasm, paper crinkles and dissolves underneath the torrent. He watches Konan’s eyes narrow angrily before the chakra lurches again, and he realizes she plans to detonante the rest of them _all at once._

“Kakashi-” He bites out. “You need to hurry up.”

Pulling up a shield of earth now is more likely to get them buried alive than anything else, Suiton may be able to suffocate some of the blast but it won’t save them. Running is the only option. 

The water might dilute it for a second, but-

They run. The first explosion goes off, loud enough to shake the earth and rattle his teeth. The earth erupts in a wave of molten heat. Itachi throws up a shield of earth that blackens and cracks, and as the earth beneath them trembles in warning he’s sure it’s going to collapse on top of them, but the dark patterns in Kakashi’s eyes whorl again and he grabs him. The world fades away. 

Their plans didn’t include fighting the Deva Path.

Given Naruto’s description of this one, it’s the last one they need to be fighting now, especially disadvantaged as they are.

The deflected kunai and shuriken bury in the dirt twitch and rise as the Deva Path extends an arm. Mikoto tackles him to the ground as they bury themselves in their targets with sickening thuds. Their Shinobi fall. The Edo Tensei Shinobi advance. The earth trembles. 

Shisui knows a losing battle when he sees one, too. The best option they have is to pull a tactical retreat and regroup later, but even that didn’t guarantee survival, if anyone decided to pursue. At most, they would buy time, but even the act of escaping seems unfeasible. 

Tsunade leaps from behind the Deva Path, a snarl on her face as she hits it hard enough to crack the earth as it falls. 

The battle surges on in the heat of terror and confusion. Shisui jumps over a corpse with a kunai straight through the heart. 

They just need to last until Itachi and Sasuke can kill Nagato.

Shisui stands back up and holds his sword level. If he’s dying, the least he can do is take down as many others as he can with him.

As he charges again, believing in that strategy whole-heartedly, the Edo Tensei Shinobi begin to crumble. They pause in their movements, the light stolen from them at the end of their lives shining in the air as the dust that so deftly kept them functioning fades away, as they disintegrate to dust before his eyes. 

He stands, paralyzed, for a moment, before the realization hits him.

They did it. They _undid Edo Tensei._

The relief hits so fast and swift that it nearly drops him to his knees as the unbeatable army deteriorates before his eyes. 

Their battle is nearly over. 

The third leap, like the second, is less than graceful. 

Rock materializes under his feet and the impact jars up his legs. Momentum proves to be equally as unkind as they both topple forward. Itachi catches himself on a shelf of rock, cutting his hand open in the process. His palm comes back scarlett-framed.

He takes a deep breath of cold air through shaking teeth that aches all the way down his throat. The air is drastically colder, without the presence of multiple ear-shattering explosions. 

Kakashi sits with his back against the rock. They landed in a cave, somewhere. 

“I overshot this time.” He groans. “I don’t know how Obito does this.”

Itachi shrugs. “Practice.”

He glances around, and sees no evidence of an exit anywhere nearby. “This is where Nagato is?”

“It should be, but… the signature is muffled.”

Itachi glances around the cave with the help of the Sharingan. No visual discrepancies, but the chakra does seem strange. 

“Let’s look around.”

Itachi realizes what’s happening once they enter the third hallway of the cave complex.

“Her jutsu-” He says, stopping in his tracks. Kakashi stops after him, brows lowered. “They managed to disguise her paper. The chakra you’re feeling, it isn’t residual.”

“She disguised the cave.” Kakashi realizes, and looks around with a greater sense of urgency. “It looks like… a chamber that she disguised. I can find it.”

Itachi draws his sword and nods.

Kakashi leads them left, and then Itachi notices the tag to their left. There’s only a moment to act.

The tunnel crumbles. 

The dim light of the cave masks Nagato’s sickly pallor. Konan stands steadfast by his side. 

“Those two…” Nagato says. “They’re outside now.”

“There’s no way for them to get in without triggering the paper bombs.” She replies. “The first tunnel will collapse on them if they try.” 

Nagato had told her to rig the entire cave with explosives. In the case that anyone found him, he would be unable to fight back. If their backup plan with the Animal Path failed - which it evidently had - the best they could do was bring the attackers down with them. 

She can’t decipher the look on his face. 

“You should go.” He says eventually. “You’re in no condition to fight.”

She bristles. The exhaustion is there, certainly, and the Raikage managed to rip straight through her side, only some of which she was able to convert before his attack, but leaving him here is a certain death sentence. “I won’t leave without you.”

An explosion shakes the foundation of the cave. Nagato’s gaze returns to her. “They’re getting closer. The two of us won’t be able to fend them off.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She replies. “I’ll stop them.”

“Konan.” He says. “I’m asking you to leave not as the leader of the Akatsuki, but as your teammate. Leave, Konan.”

“I won’t.” She snaps. “I pledged to follow you here to the end of life or death and I intend to keep that promise.”

“Your presence here is pointless.” He reminds her. “You’re unable to fight.” 

She presses a hand to the blood blooming above her hip. 

“The only thing it will accomplish is the death of us both. Your death is avoidable.”

“Then the Infinite Tsukuyomi will kill me.” She spits. The plan she agreed to, as an ends to a means. “I’d rather be with you.”

“I’m not so sure. Edo Tensei has been released.”

She reels back. “What?”

“Zetsu’s army is gone.” He says. 

Konan purses her lips. “If they’ve come to kill us, they’ll have to kill me first.”

“There is no comfort in death.”

She inhales sharply. 

“You aren’t abandoning me, or our cause, by running. You’re keeping it alive, even if only for a few seconds. Go, Konan.”

Her mouth twists. “You choose now to have this revelation? After how far I’ve followed you?”

“Yahiko would’ve wanted you to live.”

“Yahiko would’ve never wanted this in the first place.” She snaps. Yahiko would’ve wanted her to run, too, but the villages have taken everything from her, and she has long since shed his weak, kind principles in the name of change. She knew what she was doing years ago, and she can’t bring herself to regret it. “But Yahiko is dead. Because of the villages. Don’t deny me this.”

“There’s no honor in waiting for death. I’ll need you alive to light my pyre.”

She stiffens. “You’d resort to that, to get me to leave?”

When Nagato smiles, it’s a tired one. “I’m tired of watching friends die, too.”

Konan makes her decision. 

The cave trembles again. “I’ll light your pyre.” She promises, and turns down the back tunnel. 

Killing Nagato is easy. He's on his deathbed when they arrive, already. The problem is the cave is coming down. It trembles and shakes, heaving with the effort of keeping itself upright. 

Kakashi keeps a tight grip on his arm as he drags him down another tunnel. The first explosion goes off in the distance. 

"The only way out is to go through the rock."

Then, Itachi supposes, that's what they have to do.

Itachi isn't back yet, and the crows have nothing to say, but Nagato is dead. They don't have time to relax, though.

Shisui is safe under his Susano's protection, but the god tree leers in the background, tall enough that he can't see the top, curled around the blood-red moon. 

But interference is out of the question. He'll just have to hope that Sasuke meant what he said when he promised to come back. 

The Infinite Tsukuyomi is a thing of nightmares. A children's tale whispered under heavy blankets to the light of a candle. It stares back at him in the sky, and for a moment, Sasuke is unconvinced of its existence in anything other than his mind. The white-pink foam of surreal disbelief pulls like wire. The end that Aoda so feared is upon them, and Sasuke can feel the presence of the snakes more acutely than he could before. The barrier between worlds will be almost completely eliminated. That is what allows the Infinite Tsukuyomi to function. 

Madara looks down, expressionless, framed against the god tree, and Sasuke watches the light in his eyes shift-

He trudges through the thick haze of purgatory. A heavy fog floats around his head. This street is streaked with blood. The shrill shriek of a crow overhead, nearly indistinguishable from the dark sky, echoes above, and circles like a vulture. Sasuke knows this memory. A sword stained with blood held in trembling hands, the off-key cry of a clock as the minutes drain away like the blood dripping into the storm drain. There's blood on his hands when he turns them over, and he's seventeen and twelve and both and neither. 

His lungs fill with water as the rain begins to fall, and he's sure that he must have died, that this must be some sort of penance. Over the top of the training hill, the murder of crows descend in a tight kill spiral, black blots of wings fading together like ink spots bleeding into each other to form the dark, vague image of a person. Two dark red eyes stare back at him, and Sasuke rolls forward on his heels. 

The memory parts like running water and gives way to dark tunnels full of purple haze and a persistent itch that claws at the back of his mind. Otogakure's tunnels are long and empty and lined with death. The blood under his nails is dried. 

The halls don't resemble the ones in his memory. They stretch left, right, in looping patterns that he can't track. A hand placed on the wall reveals a palm full of blood and dust. The room where he killed Orochimaru writhes, bleeds, aches in the inconsistent light, and Sasuke turns away from his room of horrors. 

Poison takes root in his lungs and blooms in his throat. Vines curl around his windpipe and constrict. The world bleeds off the walls around him, like oil paint dripping down a canvas. He claws at his throat and falls to his knees, sliding down a backdrop of stone. The battlefield is littered with rubble and he chokes on dust. He can’t breathe, and there’s a slick pool of blood next to his foot. He doesn’t look down, can’t, because he knows who that is and he knows what he did and this is a guilt he can never be freed from-

The water parts again. If he stands too long the ash will swallow him, falling from a red maw lined with teeth. The sky bleeds and stains the moon red. His breath catches behind his teeth as the earth sinks into an open-mawed cavern, and something inside stirs, with one bulbous eye opened, shuddering breaths shaking its form, ten tails twisted together beneath the roots of a tree, and it _looks at him-_

_"Sasuke!"_

His palm burns. Realization hits him at once, and terror pulls the bones of Susano around him. He snaps back to life, drawing a breath through his teeth just as a ribcage forms around him. Madara's staff connects with it hard enough to break cement. He inhales sharply through the muddled pain and jumps back, pulling Naruto under Susano's safety. The hard glint of armor starts to stretch up the length of bone. A skeletal branch of wings protrudes from the shoulders. 

Naruto shakes himself awake and activates Kyuubi mode. 

"Shit." He coughs. "I wasn't expecting him to do that so soon this time."

Madara looks down the bridge of his nose. Sasuke can feel the roots of the god tree crawling across the earth, ready to claim it and join this world to the next. He can only wonder how many it’s already claimed. 

“I’ve played with the two of you long enough.”

Sasuke flinches and Susano’s wings spread just as black lightning lances through the earth. Naruto grabs his arm and they lunge, kyuubi mode growing to fit Susano’s armor. The heat of Naruto’s chakra is nearly overwhelming, the combined weight of it fizzling in the air and lighting the ground aflame. 

Madara leaps back to avoid Susano’s sword, which cleaves straight through one of the roots.

Sasuke can feel the pull of chakra coils in his eye, the same sting of pain that was the resurgence that it took to activate the Rinnegan and force it to work.

“Remember his clones.” Sasuke warns. His heart pounds in his ears. “We have to wait for them to merge, then we can strike.”

Naruto grimaces. “As long as he has that one around, wouldn’t he want to keep it away from him?”

“If we try to attack it directly, it’ll run-”

Another arc of lightning crashes down on them. Susano’s armor, significantly weakened, begins to hiss. Naruto makes up for the deficit in power, and they advance again. 

Sasuke pulls the sword at his hip and focuses the blade. The world is swimming with ambient chakra from the spirit world, pushed unnaturally through the pores separating them. There will be consequences, if they survive this. 

The earth itself writhes. Sasuke can see the boundaries between worlds thinning. That is the only way for the Infinite Tsukuyomi to be fulfilled. To drag the god tree, the backbone of reality, to the surface was the only way to dredge the spirit world into this one. 

The red on the moon waxes. As soon as it engulfs the moon fully, no one will be safe from its effects. Right now, there’s still the chance to break free from the meandering realities that the genjutsu spawns, but once the entire moon is eclipsed, then the jutsu will activate in full.

There’s something not quite right about Madara, either. 

His silhouette blurs around the edges, like a mismatched echo, difficult to hold in his gaze. The Rinnegan screeches and slides around him.

“I should’ve eliminated you when I had the chance.” Madara stares down at them, almost eerily apathetic in the wake of destruction unfolding around him. He holds a hand out, and the black hole forming in his hand is all the time Sasuke needs to spring into action. 

When Chidori burns, it’s with the augmentation of Hagoromo’s power. Quicksilver flickers down the length of his sword, and he leaps into the air. Susano’s wings unfurl with powerful downbeats, the power only accessible in the presence of Naruto.

He draws his sword back, and cuts the forming orb in half. The sparking of Chidori hisses and spits, but Madara is gone when he turns around. The Rinnegan pulls again and he turns over his shoulder, Susano again growing scale-like armor as flames fill his vision. 

The world burns, and Sasuke pulls back. He blinks ash out of his eyes. Naruto rushes to fill the space he left behind.

“You’re just as fast.” Madara comments. Even with the plate on his forehead broken, the eye on his forehead weeping blood, one horn snapped nearly in half, he doesn’t look nearly as affected. “Too bad it won’t help you.”

“Clones!” Sasuke snaps. 

Naruto retaliates with his shadow clones, and Sasuke follows the movement with the Rinnegan as a piece of Madara breaks off. With a wordless snarl, he leaps after it. 

“Sasuke!”

The air above is filled with small, pointed stones, each aimed to rain upon the earth. 

_When did he-?_

“It’s telling that you resort to the same cheap tricks.” Madara grins. The debris falls to the earth. 

Two great branches of Mokuton intertwine, wrestling for dominance, in the middle of an inbetween place. Kamui allows him access to places that no human should go to.

The water under his feet, great, yawning channels of inky black, shift under him slowly, like the beckoning of the tide, but he has doubts that if he were to investigate further, that there would be anything underneath. 

This scene is familiar. Blood up to his knees, the corpses of Kirigakure soldiers. The first time Kamui brought him so close to the spirit world.

The world is painted in strange, living shadows. In the distance, the roots of Mokuton soak in the blood. They climb from the pool to weave around them, choking out the moonlight. The shadow itself is woven together, moving, breathing, blinking with a thousand glass eyes. Zetsu smiles. He seems right at home with the darkness that bred him.

“What is this?”

“I haven’t done anything.” Zetsu lies smoothly. “You’re the one with the Sharingan.”

Zetsu fades back into the darkness. Obito leaps after him, wading through the bloody water, underneath the arch of Mokuton. It reacts to his presence, twitching and curling away. The roots sink back into the water, and emerge again in the center of the clearing. The roots of the god tree are large enough that Konoha itself could fit under them. They rise from the water, carrying the weight of the thick trunk with ease. But below the roots, in the hollow before the water-

Bones.

The great curve of a rib cage, bleached white, rises through the water. A root extends from the middle of the chest. 

“The Jubi.”

Zetsu grins. “Correct. The birth of the snakes, toads, and slugs.” 

The shadows around the three archways dance. 

“They neglect a piece of the story, though. She wasn’t quite alone when she reached the surface.”

The shadows in the water tighten. They constrict around his legs.

Obito inhales through his teeth. Kamui doesn’t like the spirit world. It pulls and resists, but shoots him back. The entire chamber is filled with shadows. 

Mokuton slashes through the choppy water, and Obito exhales a lungful of fire. Zetsu hisses and the pointed shadows regroup again. Zetsu extends a hand, the same baleful smile on his face, and the shadows wind up his legs. Halfway through the hand signs again, they reach his hand, his wrist, and climb the length of his arm. His shoulder locks in place, and the numbing chill begins to set in. 

The shadows on Zetsu’s face writhe and distort. The shadows on the left half of his body pull tighter. His hand moves against his will. 

“Disposing of you would be premature.” Zetsu says. “You’ve been a fun plaything, though. Perhaps I should grant you the release of death. That’s what your kind would prefer, yes?”

Obito thinks of the strewn corpses of the hosts Zetsu took on, and the victims with their throats torn out. Suffocation, impalement, there’s too many tactics for Zetsu to apply. 

The ground shakes.

“Mm. It seems like Madara’s already gone through with the plan.” The thinly veiled disdain in Zetsu’s tone creeps behind in the form of Mokuton, winding up from the earth in thin points. Obito trembles as the shadow stretches across to his spine. The effort and the needling pain blinding him is near agonizing, but he takes advantage of the opportunity. 

He presses his fingers and thumbs together and Mokuton bursts from the water. Zetsu evades the attack, but it’s enough to throw him off balance long enough for Obito to overpower the shadow through sheer force of will. He stumbles back, and grapples for Kamui again.

Zetsu’s Mokuton erupts after him. It slashes through his side and tears at his arm while strings of shadows surge after him again. 

Even when angry, the stubborn smile stays on his face. Long, thin, needle-sharp, he seethes. “You wish to help the children fighting Madara. Do you think your presence would be so beneficial?”

It isn’t a question worth responding to. Instead, he stares at the sinewy strands, like spiderwebs made of elastic cartilage. He twists his arm out of their hold, tearing through them even as they multiply.

“This is your tomb, Obito Uchiha, you will not escape it so easily. To be buried here is an honor, you should be flattered.” 

Obito’s stomach flips. “I would tell you to go to hell, but we’re already there.”

For a moment, his flames burn so bright that they’re blinding. The shadow’s grip on him weakens, and he tears at Kamui as he leaves Zetsu’s chamber behind him. Mokuton strikes up through the water, but Obito doesn’t get a chance to see it.

He lands on the smooth surface of Kamui, every part of him aching to the bone, and exhales wearily. 

Going out into a world ravaged by the Infinite Tsukuyomi would be all but a death sentence. The wound in his side bleeds sluggishly as he tries to stop the bleeding. There’s nothing left to do but wait.

The rocks hit the ground with enough force to split the earth. Sasuke narrowly escapes being crushed to death. He channels more chakra to develop Susano’s sword. The sky alights in an arc of purple fire.

Madara doesn’t give them the chance to recover. A bolt of lightning streamlines directly towards Naruto.

Sasuke pushes off a dislodged rock and surges forward. He extends a palm, and he tastes ozone on his teeth. The world erupts in a white-hot blur of heat and light. Lightning fizzles off his hand, and for a minute, he wrestles with it. But Chidori has parted a lightning bolt before. 

He knows the minute he overpowers the attack. It splits in half, and razes the ground on either side of them. 

“Did you just _overpower him?”_

Sasuke’s fingers, scattered with burns, twitch. 

It doesn’t look like Madara suffered much from the blast, but retaliation hadn't been the purpose of the attack. Instead, he rears back in a way Sasuke recognizes immediately. 

“Fire release. Naruto-”

“Got it!” 

Even with the combined protection of the kyuubi’s chakra and Susano, which sheds and regrows its armor based upon necessity, Sasuke can still feel the scorching heat that would’ve burned them alive on contact. The range of the flames is so massive that Sasuke can’t see the extent of the damage. The entire battleground goes up in smoke and flames. Ash and embers swirl in the superheated currents of air spinning around their heads. A thick cloud of smoke kicks up. His eyes sting.

“I can’t see through it.” He grits his teeth. “He might be fast enough to outrun Kirin.”

The Rinnegan could, but the Rinnegan didn’t quite perceive this world so much as the next. What the Rinnegan _could_ detect was the number of clones he has running around at any given moment. He only counts the one at the moment. 

But he might be able to manage something else.

“You can sense him, can’t you?”

Naruto nods. “It’s… a little difficult, but, yeah.” 

“I have an idea. Where is Madara now? I need you to guide my movement.”

Naruto bites his lip. “Okay.”

Sasuke can taste lightning on the air. Given the level of sensing Madara is capable of, he can sense it as well. 

The hair on the back of his neck raises. The chakra crackling in the air, ambient electricity formed over kinetic friction and conductive metal, raises its head. A spiderweb of lightning explodes around them.

Naruto grabs him by the shoulders and yanks them both back, wrapping them in Kurama’s fiery cloak of protective chakra. The static in the air thickens, and then Madara’s clone attacks.

Sasuke whirls around just in time to watch him strike down with his staff. Chidori flickers in his palm, but Madara doesn’t so much as flinch. Susano’s hard ribs prevent the attack from killing him, but he’s pushed back, digging his heels into the scorched earth. 

The circumstances are perfect for what he’s about to do.

He has to act before Madara gets the chance to launch another meteor at them. He moves the chakra in the air, feels it move down his skin and pool under his palms, the polar dichotomy between hot and cold disorientating. 

“Playing with lightning, are we?”

Kirin descends from the clouds in a crashing cascade of lightning that makes his hair stand on end - but it doesn’t hit Madara. He turns as Kirin strikes the center of the battlefield, cracking the burning earth into pieces. Madara raises an eyebrow. 

Naruto hisses behind him as one of the Gudodama floating around his head is sliced open. 

Susano’s ghostly fire swirls around him, and Madara’s responds in turn. 

Even his Susano is something to be feared. It towers over them, staring down with two white eyes. Two sides, conjoined at the spine, wielding straight katana. 

“Naruto!”

Without the added buff of Naruto’s power and Kurama’s chakra, there’s no way to win this fight. 

Madara moves first, his blade swinging down with little warning. The sword is almost knocked from his hand. With the second sword, he cuts straight through Susano’s arm, and the blistering chakra at the side nearly burns Sasuke’s side to charcoal.

Naruto shifts, protecting the injured side. While the arm reforms, it steps forward clumsily to parry another attack. 

They stumble backwards, the momentum equally unmerciful. Kurama’s power glows beneath the armor and restabilizes them.

“One more step!” Sasuke can barely hear his voice over the roar of the wind, the crackle of flames and chakra and the pounding in his head. In the light, Naruto looks drawn and pale - the clone had actually hit two Gododama, things intrinsically connected to Naruto’s life sustaining chakra. While Kurama’s healing was good for physical injuries, it couldn’t purge sickness such as that.

Madara strikes again, and the blade once again raises to receive the blow, at such an angle that Susano again has to take a step back. The heel ends at the edge of the greatest crack Kirin created, a chasm wide enough that Sasuke could fall in if he wasn’t careful.

He makes the signs for Suiton, and the furrows fill with water, travelling between the interconnected cracks. 

When Madara swings his sword again, it’s with purpose. It targets the vulnerable spaces in the gaps between Susano’s armor, and cuts straight through Kurama’s chakra. 

Naruto doubles forward, clutching his chest, and chokes on his own blood. Panic catches in Sasuke’s chest like burning paper, and he balances his power with Naruto’s. The Six Path’s power travels between the two of them like an electrical current, a negative feedback loop. 

Sasuke forces his chakra outward, crackling, and Madara pulls back.

Naruto winces and wipes the corner of his mouth. “Is the clone back yet?”

Sasuke scans the smoky debris with the Rinnegan. “No.”

They need to stall for more time. So long as the clone is running around, sealing Madara away will be ineffectual.

Madara stands, proud and terrifying, within Susano. A monolith of power and violence. The smoke obscures his legs, but Sasuke knows where the cracks Kirin left behind are, and he knows that Madara has one foot hanging over the precipice. 

“Make sure to push him back,” Is all he says before Susano’s armor fades and he’s deposited on the ground. 

The attack from the clone, lurking in the backdrop of smoke, isn’t unexpected. It rattles his ribcage and leaves an ugly mess of bruising, a wound that makes him want to double over and wheeze, but it isn’t unexpected. 

He throws up a wall between them, and channels the Six Path chakra to his hand, striking up through the chest. The shadows around the wound unravel and dissolve, and the clone inhales sharply. 

Sasuke pulls away immediately, shoving his sword through its ribs, and lighting it up with electricity, before dipping the blade in the water-filled channels and letting the quicksilver-Chidori electrocute the water. 

In his periphery, Naruto shoves Madara back. It takes too long, but all they need is an inch-

The water explodes with lightning so potent that Madara’s Susano unravels, and Naruto is quick to follow. 

“Sasuke!” Naruto yells, as Madara drags himself out of the water, sparking. “Sasuke, _what now-?”_

“Fire your Rasengan when I tell you - _right when I tell you,_ understand?”

Naruto nods sharply. Sasuke watches as the clone connects back to Madara’s hulking form, soul sewing itself back together. The earth shakes. He can feel the slow, titan movement of tectonic plates. 

He charges.

“Sasuke!”

“When I tell you!”

Madara yanks his sword from the earth. When his Chokuto meets it, it’s just a formality. They wrestle for control, and Madara exhales a point-blank pillar of fire. Sasuke leaps back and calls forward a wall of earth. Naruto joins the fray a minute later, Rasengan forming in-palm.

Sasuke catches the shift in his muscles as he turns, and readies Chidori. Madara pivots on his heel, but instead of attacking with ninjutsu, as his movements seemed to imply, he tears upward with his sword-

Straight through his stomach.

The sword buries itself somewhere near his lowest rip, hacking up through the stomach. Sasuke exhales sharply. Naruto freezes, somewhere between horror and shock, and Madara looks at him with something that might resemble pity in anyone else.

“It’s a shame,” He says. “You had potential.” The tip of the sword ventures higher. 

Sasuke grins with a mouthful of bloody teeth. _“Now,_ Naruto!”

His rasengan hits Madara straight in the back, just as Sasuke plunges Chidori through his chest. He feels the seal on his hand release, as the power stored there for so long reaches its outlet. It winds around Madara’s chakra, constraining it neatly.

The Jubi howls in the back of his mind, thrashing against the bonds that would restrain it once more. The god tree seems to screech, as the source of its power is eliminated. The power is blinding, and makes his heart drop into his stomach. In his blurry periphery, he can see the tree wither, the roots curl up, as it releases the people it shackled. The Infinite Tsukuyomi disappears. 

Sasuke falls to the ground, cold and entirely spent. It’s hard to breathe through the pain concentrated in his stomach, slowly fading into a dull pulse as he blinks lethargically up at the night sky. He’s soaked with blood. 

“You - you goddamn _idiot-”_ Naruto coughs, equally exhausted. There’s dirt in his hair, under his fingernails, blood on the back of his teeth. 

Sasuke heaves a laugh. Everything aches, down to the bone, but the sky is clear, the moon is bright. This quiet is a different kind. The earth is loose with blood and the war is over and they won. The breathes come more quick and shallow, then. A couple feet away, Naruto lays on his back, alive, breathing. 

Muffled voices play at the edge of his consciousness, but Sasuke doesn’t have the energy to pay them any heed. 

The starry night blinks back at him, and Sasuke closes his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit I did it. Holy shit???? The Madara vs Sasuke and Naruto thing has gotta be the hardest thing I've ever written but I'm actually... pretty happy with it, so I hope it lived up to expectations. Thank you all for all your wonderful comments, you really make the process so much easier.
> 
> \- No I didn't kill Konan because I like her. In canon her death was so... awful. DANZO of all people had a more dignified death. Also she's super powerful and no one acknowledges that so I'm gonna  
> \- What's up with Zetsu?? He escaped because killing evil eldritch demons is actually really difficult, more on that later  
> \- All that's left to do is tie up some loose ends! Just one more chapter to go!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	25. Hope is a Thing with Feathers

The war is over three days before they get the news. 

Sakura emerges from their shared tent that morning and walks down to the river. She needs to start a fire, since it’s her turn to cook, and Yamato-sensei is working to seal off Kabuto’s cave. Eiko is still asleep. She’d slept a full twenty four hours after undoing Edo Tensei and even now she doesn’t look fully recovered. 

Sakura is more than ready for this entire assignment to be done, but they haven’t received any orders to retreat. Yamato-sensei says not to worry about it. 

She bats mosquitoes away from her face as she unzips the heavy flak jacket draped over her shoulders. Even the early mornings are warm, but in the afternoon, the oppressive humidity hangs over them like a curtain of hot mist. Sakura is, put simply, tired of this place.

She crouches down next to the river, watching the quick, silver flashes of scales underneath the clear water, when a hawk descends from the skies. One of Konoha’s.

It lands on a rock not too far away, and she approaches. It sticks out its leg, with a scroll tied to it. 

“Thanks.” She says, untying it, and the hawk screeches. 

“Yamato-sensei!”

Kimimaro has the river-sickness. Ino has read up on it, apparently. 

They talk over their packing. The tent poles come down, wrapped neatly in a cloth sack. Equal weight is distributed between her and Ino, while Yamato takes more. Sakura tears one of the stakes she missed out of the ground and rolls everything together. 

“It sounds like tuberculosis.” Ino says, testing his somewhat shallow breathing. “When were you diagnosed?”

“I’ve had it for as long as I remember. I think most of my clan were carriers of it, at least. My kekkei genkai exacerbated its progression. Orochimaru said I had another three or so years left.”

Ino hums. “Very few people actually express symptoms. There’s gotta be some genetic factor to it, but we have treatment for it.” She stands up straight. “Anyways, that means you gotta come back with us.”

“To Konoha?” He raises an eyebrow. “I doubt I’ll be well received.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re not at war with Oto and I can claim you as a patient for medical research, since we’ve never seen a patient survive in your stage before, so they can’t turn you away.” 

Sakura squints. “Sometimes I forget how manipulative you can be.”

Ino pats her on the shoulder. “All in a day’s work.”

She turns to address Kimimaro. “If you’re coming with us, we’re leaving soon. If not… well, I don’t advise it, but you probably have at least another two years before it gets really bad, if you regulate your chakra well. It’s up to you.” 

Kimimaro looks back at Karin, who shrugs. “If you can come back.”

“Oh, of course. The press team will have a ball with that one - _Last member of Otogakure’s esteemed Otsutsuki clan healed by the benevolent hospital and research team of Konoha._ She rolls her eyes. “If nothing else, if might smooth over some tension. And even they didn’t let you leave, Karin could always make a political statement demanding your return, or you could just sneak out. It’s really not that hard. A twelve year old did it.”

“Why do you think _I_ have any input?” Karin asks.

Ino snorts. “You unified all the clans here, didn’t you? That’s a first.”

Kimimaro looks back at Juugo. “I’ll go with you, on one condition.”

Coming home is a strange affair that Sakura isn’t prepared for. 

The morning is a serene one. Dawn breaks lazier than cicadas. The waxing sun sits upon the horizon, dipping into a periphery of pine trees, and there are thousands wounded spilling through Konoha’s gates. Shinobi, battered from their assignments, covered in mud or dirt or some combination of the two, splattered with blood, sporting burn scars, slings, missing eyes and limbs. For the most part, makeshift healing is all that they have in the field, and Ino hisses at the sight of it.

“Ino-” Sakura tries to grab for her elbow, but she shakes her head quickly and reaches to tie her hair back. “I’m going to the hospital - they’re gonna need help with this many people. I’ll check in with my family later.” 

She darts off through the gates, dragging Kimimaro behind her, barging through customs, presenting her license so she can soldier her way through. 

Which leaves her to find the rest of her team herself.

Hinata and Kiba are waiting by the assignment table. There are hundreds crammed into the space, all elbows in ribs and shuffling over everyone else’s feet. It must be ten degrees hotter inside than out. Some people were kicked onto the street, and await the rest of their fragmented team there. Some, she knows, will never be reunited.

“You’re here.” She breathes.

Kiba grins. “Picked up by Division Six. Dropped a rockslide on a couple Edo Tensei zombies.”

Hinata squeaks. “Kiba!”

“Oh, right, we weren’t supposed to tell you about that. Anyways, by the time we caught up, the fight was already over and they were making their rounds.”

Sakura nods. “Ino’s at the hospital. You guys can go. If you’re signed off, I’ll check in with Yamato-sensei.”

Sakura’s home is empty. Her parents are still away in Suna, caught up in a business deal when the borders were sealed. She goes through her nightly routine, revelling in the hot, running water and being able to sleep in her own bed. The solitude is strange.

It’s three in the morning when someone knocks on the door. She wasn’t asleep.

Ino and Kakashi-sensei stand outside. Ino scrubs blood off her face, and Kakashi places a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s Naruto.”

Sakura has never hated anything so much as she hates the memorial stone. The list of names is ever-growing, and she wants nothing more than to smash it to pieces. The line of mourners is long, draped in shadows, leaving offerings of flowers and trinkets. The hospital is still overcrowded, the village is still shaken, there are still apologies and reparations to be handed out, because Tsunade made a public speech yesterday that there would be change, and the village would own up to the damage it caused, and the role it played in the war.

Sakura has no idea how she’s going to do it, but she has the backing of the Uchiha clan, and given how many were sacrificed during the fighting, they’re not an enemy to be made lightly. Hinata talks about Hyuga-clan politics behind her hands and Kiba mentions the orphanage that Iruka-sensei opened up. Sakura isn’t sure what to think. 

The hospital is overcrowded enough that visitors aren’t allowed right now, even direct family members. She left a vase of flowers a few hours ago, in the room Naruto shares with the boy from earlier - Sasuke. Everyone is treading on eggshells around them, and getting their room number had been difficult enough. Nobody will tell her anything. They won’t even tell her what’s wrong with it. The most she’s gotten is vague descriptions of extreme chakra depletion. 

Kakashi strolls easily next to her, accommodating for her shorter stride. Pakkun trots around her legs, accepting a piece of dango from the stick in her hand.

“Don’t feed him that.” Kakashi says. “He’s not supposed to eat table food.”

“Don’t listen to him.” Pakkun replies. “He’s a pathological liar.”

Kakashi snorts.

“So…” Sakura glances up. “What’s up? Are you gonna tell me what happened with you or Naruto? And what’ve you been doing? Yamato-sensei mentioned something.” 

His hand falls to the nape of his neck. “Well, that’s all a bit confidential right now. I’m sure when Naruto wakes up all the security in the world couldn’t stop him from telling you, though. Ah, as for the other thing… well, we’re involved in a certain organization right now. You’ll see it soon enough.”

She looks again at the dango. “I’m okay, y’know. Promise.”

He glances down at her. “Well, what kind of sensei would I be if I didn’t check in?”

She drags her feet. “We still have to paint your walls.”

“Haven’t given up on that one, huh?”

“Nope.” She grins. “We gotta do it now, sorry.” 

Kakashi sighs dramatically. “My students are so mean. Pakkun, where did I go wrong?”

Sakura laughs.

Naruto opens his eyes to the lively bustle of hospital life. The soft beeping of monitors, morning light scattered in the white curtains billowing away from the open window in waves of silk. He’s exhausted down to the bone. His joints creak and his head swims as he pushes himself out of the bed, stumbling to grasp the bedrail. He pushes the dark gray curtains separating their beds aside in the too-small room, and there Sasuke is, tangled in a web of cords and wires. 

He lurches towards the door and reacquaints himself with the working of his limbs.

The door bursts open inward and Ino flies through the door, and he then notices the seals plastered to his bed, to the doorframe. 

“Naruto!” 

All the strength leaves him then, and his knees give out. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and laughs wetly. “You - you’re telling me _everything.”_

Adjusting to a world where he is not part of ROOT is strange, Sai thinks. Not entirely unpleasant, but… strange.

Yamato-sensei is almost suspiciously lenient, and there are virtually no rules. None he has thought to break, anyways. 

This entire situation is just… bizarre. He’s been outside of the tunnels for a week now, after Hawk and Leopard had volunteered him first. Sai understands that Danzo had been killed sometime earlier, and that most of the orders they received had come through another member of the counsel associated with the organization. But none of them are bound to anything, without Danzo. The seal on his tongue is gone, and he is staying with Yamato now, and ROOT is gone.

He’s not the only one having trouble adjusting, he’s sure. The dissemination process has been going on for the last two weeks, with the evacuation of the younger members first. Their plan is to reintegrate them, or something along those lines, but Sai isn’t sure he considers that a possibility. He’s made to be Danzo’s tool, and a tool without a handler is a useless thing. 

ROOT headquarters has been a mess for months now, ever since Danzo left. Disobedience, destruction, escape, even, for those more determined, had run rampant. The Godaime has officially declared the organization disbanded, and ordered the survivors into reintegration programs that they don’t have the space for. 

He gets strange looks from the people in town who know he’s ROOT. They cross to the other side of the street when he passes, they glare and refuse him service. The citizens have never liked them - though, those are Danzo’s words, and Yamato-sensei has been encouraging him to think for himself. Sai isn’t exactly sure how to do that. His simple existence seems to be some sort of social faux pas. 

He meets Yamato-sensei talking to Kakashi-sensei at the end of the street. The shop down the street that sells candy had been recommended, but Sai has never had candy, and thus doesn’t know what he likes. 

“Sai.” Yamato-sensei greets. “Did you find what you wanted?”

Sai doesn’t want to upset him. Does Yamato get angry? He isn’t sure yet. Danzo’s anger had been the slow, festering kind. Best left unprovoked. “I did.”

“That’s good.” He turns to the pink haired girl standing behind Kakashi, practically hiding behind him. “Sai, this is Sakura, she’s Kakashi’s student. She said she would show you around town.”

She waves at him. Slowly, he reciprocates the gesture.

“Nice to meet you.” She smiles.

The surface world is strange and confounding, sure, but Sai is willing to learn.

Sasuke wakes slowly, and then all at once.

He’s slowly aware of the IV pumping morphine into his system, the paper thin sheets pulled around him, the dull ache of recent sutures pulling below his ribs. He waits for feeling to trickle back into his fingertips as the heart monitor catches up to the steady pulse beneath his aching sternum, and Naruto rips the curtains off so fast he nearly tears them apart. 

He leans back into the pillow, vaguely nauseous. “... we’re alive.”

Barely, maybe.

Naruto promptly bursts into tears.

“You’re awake, you little shit!” Shisui bursts through the door, quickly followed by a distressed-looking Itachi, and their parents. “Man, I thought I was the stupid one. How many times are you gonna end up here?”

“Like you’re one to talk.” Mikoto scoffs. “You were in overnight because your tear ducts were filled with blood.” 

“Okay, you didn’t have to tell him that-”

Naruto is finished crying on him, and calling him every synonym for ‘idiot’ in the book for letting himself get skewered. He scrambles off the side of the bed so Itachi can drop like a stone out of the plastic chair by his side. There are bags under his eyes, and scabs under his chin and down his neck, the edges of bandages peeking out from under his collar. 

Sasuke turns and buries his head on his shoulder. The wound pulls, the forming scar tissue brushing against the hospital gown, but he ignores it.

“I’m okay.” He says. “I’m sorry.”

Naruto squawks. “How come he gets an apology?”

Itachi hugs him gently back. “One of these days, you’re going to give me a heart attack.”

“He was pacing for like, days. Seriously, he’s eventually gonna just keel over ”

“It probably won’t happen again.” Naruto says. “If that helps.” 

“It really doesn’t.”

Sasuke is _alive._

He hadn't been expecting to wake up. He had fully expected that Madara would take him down with him, and that was fine, but… he’s still here. And everyone is alive. They won. 

Mikoto leans down to join in. “Itachi, honey, time’s almost up. He looks tired. They both do.”

Sasuke feels like death warmed over, and he probably looks it, too. Naruto seems like he’s standing through sheer determination. 

“They’ll still be here tomorrow.”

Sasuke sleeps for fourteen more hours.

He wakes up in the middle of the night to a pounding, disorienting headache, and a fiery pain beneath his ribs that suggests that the painkillers are wearing off. A nurse making rounds checks in with him, and then he’s alone with his thoughts again. 

The moon looks back at him as he stares out the window. Like this, he can almost convince himself that the Infinite Tsukuyomi was nothing but a bad dream. 

Naruto snores in the bed next to his. The rest of his fragmented team is alive. His family is whole. 

He closes his eyes.

They don’t let them home until three days later, and even that is sooner than they’d like. Sasuke will need the stitches holding him together removed. Apparently, before he was rescued, Aoda kept him alive. Medical ninjutsu was too risky considering his entire chakra system was shot, and traditional medicine was already risky enough in such circumstances. He’s scattered in bruises and cuts and a lethargy that settles over him like a heavy blanket. 

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Itachi asks for the fifth time, as he guides him through the compound. Eyes watch them through uncovered windows. Children pause in their games and look their way as they pass.

“I’m _fine.”_ He repeats, and steps over the threshold of the porch to prove it. “I can handle walking, Itachi.”

Itachi sighs a smile and ruffles his hair before he can duck away. “I know you are, I’m just… paranoid.”

He slides the door shut behind them. 

Life is… normal. There is no deadline hanging over his head like a guillotine, no immediate threat to him or anyone here. Just the sound of the stove turning on and the rhythmic scrape of whetstones in the dojo and Itachi’s hand on his back. 

It’s his first time in his room in a month and it’s filled with empty space and he still doesn’t fit in right. He ends up on the floor, propped against the bed as day bleeds into night. The moon is whole.

The Five Kage summits are starting again, to be held more regularly after everything that happened. Given the severity of his injury, Sasuke has not been cleared for travel. 

A desert hawk glides straight through the open window and Sasuke turns just in time to see it land on the perch Mom set up for the rest of the hawks. Perched on his lap, Aya narrows her eyes angrily.

It holds out a leg, and Sasuke unrolls Temari’s note. They have to deal with the situation in Kusagakure and Amegakure before anything else, and a few bills have already been proposed to get their reparation started. She’s already begun the conversation about demilitarization - none of them have missed that by their own design, their faulty system nearly caused the end of the world. The problem is going to be public support for it, especially so soon after the fighting is over.

“Who’s that from?” Mom calls from the kitchen. “Is that another one of your hawks? I thought I met all of them already.”

“It’s from Temari.”

She pauses. “You’re pen pals with the Kazekage?”

He doesn’t dignify that with an answer. The hawk preens as he scratches its neck. Aya pecks his hand. 

_“Now me!”_

Itachi laughs from the sofa. “He’s technically a citizen of Suna.”

“He’s _what?”_

The buildings ravaged by the attack are nearly almost all complete. Bureaucratic error condemned a few of them to an eternity of unfinished development, of course, but most of Konoha has been reconstructed. The strange part is perhaps the lack of people. They tried to keep the kids off the front line, but that still resulted in the death of more adults, and it showed in the sore lack of remaining government officials. Ibiki is in the hospital for a missing arm - though Tenten and her father’s new prosthetic shop might have a solution for that.

Naruto plays in the street with a pack of kids, kicking around a ball. Once they heard he was a Shinobi that fought in the war, they’re all over him, Jinchuuriki status momentarily forgotten.

Sasuke leans against a dusty wall until Naruto accidentally punts the ball onto the roof. While they scramble to be the first to catch it as it rolls down the gutter, Naruto trots up next to him.

“They didn’t care that I was a Jinchuuriki.”

Sasuke crosses his arms. “If you have to earn the right to human decency, it isn’t human decency.”

Naruto stares at him, and then huffs. “That goes both ways. You should try talking to them.”

“I would rather saw my foot off.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I should’ve expected that. You’d probably pull your stitches, too, so maybe not.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes.

“Okay, I’m gonna go catch up!”

They’re all… moving on. After nearly a year of hanging onto this, maybe it’s time he did, too.

_“Sasuke!”_

He raises his arm for Chiha to perch on as she drifts down from the treetops, a letter tied to her leg. Aya wrestles with one of Itachi’s crows in the distance while Itachi looks on with mild amusement. 

_“Yugito wants me to tell you that she’s glad you’re feeling better. She and Fu are still volunteering in Kusagakure. She says the locals are really nice.”_

Included is a picture of she and Fu, the latter posing dramatically in front of an exasperated looking Yugito, both framed by a curtain of bright green leaves. 

He huffs, bemused. “I thought the Raikage didn’t want them down there.”

_“Oh, he doesn’t. Yugito’s just done with his shit.”_

His mouth twitches into a smile. 

He got his stitches removed last week. He’s still sore, and Tsunade is fairly certain that the chakra pathways in his left hand are never going to heal. There’s so much scar tissue that channeling chakra through them is basically impossible. The same goes for Naruto’s right hand. He’s ambidextrous anyways. Naruto might have a little trouble adjusting.

Chiha’s wingspan looks a little wider, and her plumage shinier. She pulls at a piece of his hair.

“Sasuke!” Itachi calls. “Are you ready to go back?”

Chiha settles, tucking back her wings.

“I’m coming.”

Progress is slow.

Iruka’s orphanage got approved a month ago with Inoichi’s financial support, and given the amount of life lost during the fighting, he isn’t surprised that it already has its first tenants. The kids living in apartment buildings after having been kicked out of overcrowded orphanages have been rounded up, leaving great vacancies in the towering apartment buildings. The age requirement for jonin has been moved up to fifteen, and ANBU has been given the prerequisite of three years of jonin experience. A deal has been settled with Kusagakure and Amegakure to clean up the economy and the areas of land destroyed. Yugito is helping to give ancestral land back to the clans it was taken from.

It isn’t enough. Temari has mentioned reform of the school systems, but she’s working on helping Suna's economy recover, and Kirigakure is having trouble with the social change this requires. Mercenary work was the staple of their economy, and what their social hierarchy was built off. Strength was the core principle of their society, and the slow progress they’re trying to make is going to be most difficult for them.

He wanders the streets at night and feeds the alley cats and rips through the training poles in the field at every opportunity. The neighbor’s kids stay away and he bares his teeth and takes a step back because time has never been a luxury afforded to him, and presented with it, he doesn’t know what to do. It’s already two in the morning and he can’t sleep. 

Last week when he ended up on Naruto’s doorstep it was to instigate a fight that knocked over half an acre of nondescript forest.

He sits down on the dock in front of the lake. Naruto finds him twenty minutes later, and drags him home.

Temari drags herself back home in the light before sunset, after another tedious meeting with the Daimyo had dragged on for too long. She’d anticipated him being opposed to the economic reform, but this debate has been going on for two weeks, and she’s going to pull executive rank again if he doesn’t come around. 

The next summit is in a few days, to discuss again what to do about demilitarization. The Tsuchikage and Raikage have been rallying against it, but ever since she got the Tsuchikage’s granddaughter involved, his resolve has been fading.

This is also the first one that she can invite Naruto and Sasuke to.

She walks through the gate. In the street, she sees Gaara kneel and hand a wayward ball to a group of kids kicking it around. They… accept it, and thank him, and ask if he wants to join. 

She approaches, and the kids shriek raucously as they notice her presence. She laughs and waves, and joins Gaara on the sidelines.

“They weren’t scared.” He says. 

“They weren’t.” She agrees. “Dad was wrong about you. He was wrong about a lot of things, but _especially_ you. You proved it.”

He glances at her uncertainly, and she smiles. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Sasuke and Naruto’s presence is requested for the next summit. Mikoto demands that Kakashi and Itachi accompany them. Shisui is on another infiltration mission to free prisoners in the Land of Rivers, which she also isn’t pleased about.

On the way to Iron, they pass through territories on the border ravaged by the war. They help a village toppled by boulders and Itachi gets a picture of him laughing as Aya tries to make Naruto lose his balance on top of the boulder he climbed. Naruto tries to teach Kakashi how to make a flower crown, which ends miserably.

The entire time, Naruto watches him strangely.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

The summit itself is almost entirely uneventful. The Tsuchikage eventually compromises, and Temari bullies the Raikage into agreeing. The two of them are mostly relegated to the sidelines, but their presence alone seems to suggest to them that _not_ compromising wouldn’t be a very wise decision. 

Not that he’s necessarily disagreeing.

That night, Naruto turns over in his cot to stare at him.

“... you like travelling.” He says eventually.

Sasuke scowls. “And?”

“No, that was it.” 

He sighs.

Kakashi leaves in the middle of the night. There’s a strange feeling in his chest, like pooling static electricity. It beckons him outside, and it takes him a moment to recognize the second signature in the area. 

He doesn’t need to guess to know who it is.

“Obito.”

“Kakashi.” The air distorts and leaves Obito in its place. With a gloved hand, he removes the mask from his face. Kakashi flinches at the sight of spiralling scars marring the right half of his face. “You haven’t changed.”

Kakashi doesn’t know what he expected. There was something different about seeing Obito than knowing intellectually that he was alive. Nearly fifteen years of nightmares staring back at him, breathing, nothing like he remembered. There are similarities: the messy hair, the color of his eyes, all of it is burned into his memory by the Sharingan. But there's more that's unfamiliar. An expression shaped with a sobriety that his Obito rarely had. 

“You have.”

“The brats told you everything, then.”

“They did.”

Kakashi would ask why he didn’t come back, if he didn’t know. He would ask why Minato-sensei didn’t search for his body. He wants to ask if Obito missed him like Kakashi did, but he doesn’t have the words to express that sentiment. 

“Your Yamanaka kid - she’s smart. Saved my life.”

She’d failed to communicate _that_ to him.

“You met Ino?”

“Haruno, too. You got good ones.”

“Obito-”

He turns. “I thought you might try to kill me.”

Kakashi might. He doesn’t know. His heart is pounding in his throat and his wrists. But he thought he lost everything and everyone, and a lost relic of his memory is staring back at him. “That would be counterproductive. Sasuke said you kept Zetsu from interfering from the fight.”

“To various degrees of success.” He shrugs. “Bastard’s still on my tail. Can’t stick around for too long.”

“Wait.”

Obito pauses, but when he doesn’t elaborate, his shoulders relax. “Konan escaped alive. She says she wants to know why I fought Madara. She’s coming with me.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’ve still got Zetsu to track down. I’ll be around.”

Kakashi sticks his hands in his pockets to hide them shaking. He thinks Obito might know anyways. “Goodbye, Obito.”

He grins in a way that breaks what's left of his heart. “See you later, Bakashi."

It rains nearly the entire way home. Naruto complains loudly and Kakashi ambles ahead. He’s… upset, he thinks, but he isn’t sure why. He doesn’t push it. 

Naruto splashes in every puddle they come across, which is many, just to be annoying. Sasuke eventually splashes him back, and the look he gets is intensely satisfying. 

They break a few hours in. Naruto finds a ledge to curl up under, and drags him in after.

Sasuke listens to the steady drip of water outside, quiet and calming.

“Hey, Sasuke. So… I was talking to Eiko, right? Because she knows a lot about Uzushio, and she said there are still people living there, but there was so damage that it’s really difficult to get anything moving again, and... she said that we might be able to go over there and give aid.”

Sasuke pauses. “... that’s why you brought that up.”

He grins. “It wouldn’t be that long. I already talked to Kakashi-sensei about it, and he said I should do it if I wanted to. And I know… that being around the village so much is difficult, and that you like travelling, so I just thought maybe you’d want to come with.”

Sasuke pulls his knees to his chest. “I’ll think about it.”

Karin stretches out her back and descends the stairs of the house that they’re staying in temporarily - or permanently, that part wasn’t quite clear. It’s been a long day - the clans are still rallying together under her general leadership, and meetings with them can be… taxing. The prisons have all been checked, and as far as she can tell, there’s no survivors.

They’re trying to fix whatever the fuck Orochimaru did to the inner cities and all the people stranded there, and trying to define cultural lines between the sacred land of different clans to avoid more disputes.

And, she just got a message from Eiko. 

Suigetsu lounges on the couch, snoring. The porch door is open, though, and Kimimaro sits, overlooking the rolling hills behind the house. He just got back yesterday with Ino’s prescription. It isn’t a guarantee, but at the very least, it will prolong his life.

She sits down in the chair next to him.

“Karin.” He greets. She nods, and looks out at the woods. “Where’s Jugo?”

His mouth tilts into a fond smile. “He found a baby fox earlier. He’s looking for the mother.”

She nods absentmindedly. “Can I ask a question?”

He glances over his shoulder. “Of course.”

“Why did you choose to stay in Oto, even after everything that happened? You could’ve left once we broke out of the prison.”

“Jugo is here. It was… preferable to stay. We’ve both lived most of our lives here, at this point. Sentimental investment, I suppose.”

“You’ve never wanted to go back and see your clan? Or look for any other survivors?”

“The only connection I have to my clan is this sickness.” He replies. “My loyalties are with the people who have earned them. But I’m assuming this isn’t about me.”

“I did want to know, for the record.” She sighs and eases back into her chair. “Eiko, the woman from before, contacted me. She’s an Uzumaki, too, and she arranged for a couple people to go see, maybe help get the place back on its feet, and she offered to take me with them.”

He’s quiet for a minute. “What are you looking to find?”

“I… don’t know.” It’s not like she has any family members she hopes to find. Her cultural roots? Maybe. That would be a good enough reason to go. "I could. I don't know if I want to."

She doesn't want to be disappointed. 

"What you want there - can you have it here? Is it worth it to leave?"

Karin sighs. "It probably wouldn't even be that long, but..."

But... she has forever to go there, maybe when there's less on the line, when she doesn't have personal stakes in it. She still has to clean up Oto, and she can't very well just leave this mess behind for everyone else to clean up. She glances back at Suigetsu, still asleep on the couch, Jugo, somewhere in the woods, probably gathering more animals. He already has three birds in his room that he thinks she doesn't know about. 

"Maybe I'll visit later." She says eventually. "I'm... pretty attached to this fucking place, and all you idiots."

Kimimaro smiles. "I understand the sentiment."

Ino made all the clan kids get together. Again. Sasuke doesn’t know how he got roped into this.

(He does. The reason told him that he ‘needed to socialize more’ and kicked him out of his own room).

Shikamaru is playing with the shadows his chair is casting, while Kiba contemplates how many dumplings he can fit in his mouth. Choji says twenty. Ino says that they’re both cowards and idiots. Sasuke is inclined to agree. 

“My Dad’s gonna open up a mental health clinic.” Ino announces. “According to him, he’s done with the ‘bullshit ANBU exams’ and so he’s gonna make one himself. Tsunade already approved it.”

Sasuke stares at the ground, thoroughly bored, as the chatter starts up again.

Out of everyone, he doesn’t expect _Hinata_ of all people to break it.

She stands up in her chair. “I’m going to confront my father about what he’s doing to the clan.”

Sasuke blinks. 

“What?” Ino says.

Hinata fumbles. “I - I talked to Neji, and what he’s doing is wrong, and he shouldn’t be allowed to do… any of it. And I have to do something about it.”

“Didn’t you give up your position for your sister?” Kiba pipes up. 

“I did, but it doesn’t go to her until she’s eighteen. So Neji’s going to train me, and I’m going to challenge him.”

“Kick his ass!” Kiba shouts, and the rest of them join. “Yeah, you go save your clan!”

She turns red and sits back down. “Sorry. For just… um… announcing that.”

Kiba pats her on the shoulder. “Nah, now we can back you up.”

The ‘meeting’ goes on for fifteen more minutes before Itachi shows back up.

“I have to go.” He says flatly, and promptly excuses himself.

“So.” Itachi starts, as they walk down the street. “Have you made up your mind about Uzushio?”

“He told you about that?”

“Well, he isn’t exactly subtle.”

Sasuke snorts. And takes a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay if you want to go.” Itachi’s voice is gentle. “I know all of this is difficult for you. You seem happier when you’re travelling.”

His mouth twists.

“Or…” Itachi tilts his head. “Is it that you’re worried about what will happen when you’re gone?”

He doesn’t reply. Itachi hums.

“You won’t be gone for that long. If anything comes up, I promise we’ll take care of it.” Then, more quietly. “You’re allowed to rest.”

Sasuke exhales slowly. “Maybe I will.”

Itachi ruffles his hair. “Whatever you want to do.”

They actually do end up painting Kakashi's walls, much to his chagrin. Sasuke gets dragged into it by Naruto, who has a strange proclivity for yellow paint (and somehow ends up covered in the entire bucket of it). Sai is the only one of them who actually knows how to paint, and it probably shows. 

Sasuke doesn't even end up participating and he gets paint on him. Sakura flings pink paint at Ino and Ino throws orange paint at Sakura and then Naruto joins in, and it all goes downhill from there.

All things considered, it doesn't turn out all that bad. 

By the end, Sakura and Ino are holding hands, and Kakashi got his walls painted. 

"Looks good, kids." Pakkun comments.

Sakura pauses. "Aren't you colorblind?"

Ino giggles.

Sasuke makes the decision to leave the night before they’re supposed to depart. Two days prior he told Naruto he wasn’t coming, and he had pouted like a kicked puppy for hours. 

He packs in the middle of the night and explains to a very tired Itachi that he has to go, that the sudden impulse to leave is too strong to be met with opposition. 

He gathers their parents in the living room and tells them that he’s coming back, in no uncertain terms, that this time this is a promise he can make, and that when he’ll be back it will be better, and he wants to say that he’s in the process of moving on, that he’s trying, but not all of that process can be done here. 

He doesn’t manage most of it, but he thinks they understand anyway.

Itachi wraps him in a tight hug and tells him to have fun. 

He meets Naruto at the docks, who smiles like he knew this was coming the entire time, and grabs his hand.

Sasuke leans over the railing as the boat rocks rhythmically beneath him. 

Sukai and Chiha are racing in the background, shooting through the clouds and circling overhead. He’s since grown out of his seasickness, but the vivid memory of being no older than five, in the middle of the lake on a boat as Fugaku tried to teach him how to fish, stays with him. He watches the foam catch at the edge of the boat and behind them in its wake. 

They’re getting close to the island now. 

Naruto walks up beside him, and points at one of the birds in the air.

“Woah, look at that one.”

Small, probably no bigger than his hand, red and black.

Eiko smiles. “Pitohui. They’re a symbol of rebirth.”

Naruto grins and turns his way, the wind whipping through his hair. The boat docks.

Naruto offers him a hand. “You ready?”

Sasuke takes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally finished!!! This is officially the longest thing I've ever written, and I'm actually pretty proud of it. Thank you so much for all the comments/kudos, you guys are the best! I hope guys had as much fun reading this as I had writing it <3
> 
> May we one day meet again in another fic :)


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